


Learning to Vanquish

by humantales



Series: Counterparts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 90,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humantales/pseuds/humantales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of Counterparts. A sixth year story as close to canon as I can manage, with my predictions as to what will happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back at Home

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> Spoilers: Through Order of the Phoenix
> 
> Beta: The wonderful and awesome seventines

Harry looked back over his shoulder at the now-vacant site.  He would have loved to stay in the other world, but it hadn't been possible.  Now, he had to decide where he was going to go and how he was going to send the letter the other Lupin had given him to send.  He had just decided to take the Knight Bus to Grimmauld Place in London when he heard a pop behind him.

 

Turning, Harry saw Professor Lupin standing behind him.  He looked enormously relieved, then his expression slowly turned to anger.  Before he could get too angry, Harry handed him the letter he had intended to post with Hedwig.  "Here, this should explain what happened.  I never planned to go missing; I'm still not entirely sure how it happened."

 

Lupin gave Harry an intense look, then opened the envelope and began reading.  As he read the letter, he looked shocked, but then he relaxed, chuckling and shaking his head.  "The only other person I can think of who would get himself into this kind of predicament would be Sirius," he said finally.  "They'd never . . . ?" Then he shook his head.  "This isn't the place for this conversation.  I have a portkey," he held out a torn envelope.  "Let's take it and discuss this somewhere a bit more secure, shall we?"  Harry nodded and touched the envelope.  Lupin tapped it three times and Harry felt the jerk behind his navel that heralded portkey travel.

 

Harry managed to stay standing up; looking around, he found himself in Professor Dumbledore's office.  Other than Fawkes sitting on his perch, the office was empty.  "Harry, why don't you sit down while I find Professor Dumbledore?" Lupin said, walking out of the office.

 

Instead of sitting down, Harry walked around the office.  He noticed that the instruments he had destroyed after Sirius died had been cleaned up but didn't appear to have been replaced.  Harry found himself standing at the window looking out at the Quidditch pitch, wishing that his Quidditch ban were his biggest worry.

 

Some time later, Harry wasn't sure how long, he heard the door open and several people come in.  Turning, he saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Lupin.  Dumbledore indicated the chairs in front of his desk.  "Harry, why don't you sit down while we try to determine what has happened?"

 

Harry chose the chair on the end closest to where he was now standing.  Lupin sat next to him with McGonagall between Snape and Lupin.  "Why don't you begin at the beginning?" Dumbledore suggested when it became obvious Harry wasn't going to start talking.

 

Harry told them everything that had happened since he'd left Privet Drive.  Several times one of the adults made as if to ask questions, but Dumbledore held up his hand, indicating they should let Harry finish.  When he did finish, there was complete quiet in the room for several minutes.

 

It was Lupin who broke the silence.  "Why don't you bring your trunk and you can get settled in.  You'll be staying in your normal dorm."  Lupin got up and led Harry out of Dumbledore's office and to Gryffindor Tower.

 

"Professor Lupin, why am I staying here?  I'd assumed it would be either the Burrow or Grimmauld Place."

 

Lupin sighed.  "Grimmauld Place would be better, but it's unclear as to who owns it.  Narcissa Malfoy is fighting hard for it to go to her and, although we're not going to give it up, it isn't safe to use it right now.  As for the Burrow, it isn't safe.  We don't know, for certain, that Voldemort's going to come after you, but we have to assume he will.  That means you have to be somewhere safe."  Lupin stopped, turned and looked at Harry.  "Why did you leave Privet Drive, Harry?  I don't understand; you didn't say anything was wrong.  One morning, you were gone and the Dursleys couldn't tell us where."

 

"As if I'd tell the Dursleys anything," Harry said.  He sat down on his trunk and thought how to explain what he'd been feeling.  "It just got to be too much.  There was nobody to talk to, we had to be so careful what was put into letters, and I needed to talk to somebody.  Anytime I tried to talk to anybody who was around, I was told they had to concentrate on guarding me; they couldn't talk to me."  Harry shrugged. 

 

Lupin looked bewildered.  "Why didn't you say anything?  If I'd known you needed to talk, I would've come as soon as I could, even if no one else could."

 

"I tried asking the guards, but they said everyone was too busy.  I felt like I was being a brat, whining over nothing.  Every day, my safe area got smaller.  I felt like I was in a prison cell."  Harry sighed.  "I'm going to take a wild guess; I'm not going to be allowed to go into Hogsmeade this year, am I?"

 

Lupin shook his head.  "We haven't thought that far ahead.  Let's not worry about that for now.  Get settled in; we'll discuss our next step later."  They walked in silence to the tower.

 

Once they were there, Lupin cleared his throat.  "Er, Harry, the letter you gave me said you had been given other letters.  Instead of posting them, would you give them to me to hand out?"

 

Harry couldn't see a reason not to.  He opened his trunk and pulled out the stack of letters.  "There's letters for you, Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore.  There are also letters for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley; I'll just send them with Hedwig."

 

Lupin shook his head.  "Don't bother.  Arthur and Molly should be here shortly; I'll give them their letters then."

 

Harry glared at him.  "Nice of you to let me know.  I suppose I'm not to be told anything about what's going on.  Just shove me in a corner while everyone else makes the decisions.  I'll just sit around and wait for everybody to tell me what to do because, when I ask questions, I get told I'm a little brat and, when I don't, I get people killed!"  Harry reached back into his trunk and pulled out the box.  "This is for Professor Snape; his counterpart sent it to him."  Harry sat down on his bed staring at the open trunk and waited for Lupin to leave.

 

After a moment, Lupin rested his hand on Harry's shoulder.  "You weren't supposed to be left alone this summer.  The guards were given orders that they weren't supposed to talk with you on duty; that was to prevent their being so distracted with conversation that they forgot they were guarding you.  But, if you told them you needed someone to talk to, they were supposed to report that, and someone would have come out to talk to you.  I had intended to come to visit, but I got busy and distracted.  It does explain why you left; I can't imagine how alone you must have been feeling."  Harry could see the concern and guilt in Lupin's face.  "We'll talk, and I do mean talk, later."  Lupin squeezed Harry's shoulder, then left.

 

As soon as he had gone, Harry pulled the second mirror out of his trunk.  "Sirius Black," he said into it and, after a moment, Sirius's face was there, grinning widely.

 

"It worked!  I knew it would," Sirius said rapidly, "but sometimes what should work doesn't."

 

Harry smiled grimly.  "It works, but they're already shutting me out of things.  They're in a meeting and I've been sent to the dorms."

 

Sirius's triumphant grin faded.  "Not too surprising, really.  Did you tell them what happened?"  When Harry nodded, he continued, "Now, they have to decide if they believe you, decide if they believe the letters and decide what they're going to do about it.  You said the dorms; are you spending the rest of the summer at Hogwarts?"

 

Harry nodded again.  "Yes, I'll be here all alone except for the teachers."

 

"And you can't think of any way to use that situation to your advantage?"

 

"I'll be forced to stay in the castle and they'll probably decide that, since I'm here, I might as well study.  Vanquishing Voldemort, The Torture of Occlumency and, of course, Remedial Potions."  Harry scowled, thinking of how horrible the rest of his summer was going to be.

 

Sirius shook his head.  "And you can't think of any way to get out of that?  Think, Harry.  You're the one, as far as they're concerned the only one, who can defeat this bastard.  If they push you too hard, go on strike."

 

"What?"

 

"Refuse.  What can they do to you?  They can't take points; school's not in session.  They won't expel you; that means you won't be under their thumbs any more and they don't want that.  They can give you a detention but you can refuse to do it.  They have no effective way to force you to do what you don't want to do.  Now," Sirius continued, as Harry's eyes had grown huge, "I'm not really suggesting you see how far you can push anyone.  What I am suggesting is that you let them know they can't push you around any more.  So, relax and make up a list of what you consider essential.  I'd recommend time outdoors, time with your friends and, if they insist on lessons, it should be a limited amount of time and no homework other than your normal summer work." 

 

Sirius sat there grinning at Harry.  He finally smiled back, starting to feel as if things would get better.  "Even more important, I have a list of questions that need answering.  See you later?"

 

Sirius nodded.  "See you later."  The mirror went blank and Harry returned it to its place in his trunk.  He took a roll of parchment and the Occlumency books down to the common room to work.

 

Several hours later, Lupin returned to the common room with a tray.  "I come bearing food, questions and, I hope, answers.  Which do you want first?"

 

"We can talk while we eat," Harry answered.  As the two of them tucked into lunch, he said, "What kind of questions?"

 

The questions turned out to be about the other universe.  He wanted to know what their counterparts were like, how strange it had been, what Harry had picked up on what their world was like.  Harry discovered that the question everyone found most perplexing was why Harry had returned.

 

"What was I supposed to do?  My presence there destabilized both universes and, well, I was already there.  And I'm needed here."

 

Lupin shook his head.  "I'm not sure I could have been so selfless and I'm amazed you don't see yourself in that light."  He pushed his plate forward and picked up his glass.  "Time for your questions now.  I see you have a list," Lupin added, indicating the list Harry had been working on.

 

"First, what about my Quidditch ban?  Will it be lifted?"

 

"Oh, yes," Lupin said.  "The only question is if it will be done through the proper channels or whether Albus just says it's lifted.  For political purposes, it would be better to go through channels but it will be lifted no later than the 1st of  September.  And," anticipating Harry's next question, "Minerva will be bringing you your broom no later than breakfast tomorrow morning.  Apparently, that creature put some hexes on it and Minerva wants to make sure they're all off safely.  I hope that's acceptable."

 

Harry nodded.  "Does that mean I'll be allowed to fly?  This summer?"

 

Lupin smiled.  "Let me give you your rules for the rest of the summer, shall I?  I suspect that will answer most of the rest of your questions."  He took a deep breath.  "You will be required to stay on the grounds.  The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds unless you are in the company of a teacher or member of staff.  If you are going to be anywhere outside of Gryffindor Tower, you must leave an easy-to-find note in the common room saying where you are.  That table over there," Lupin pointed to a small end table that was rarely used, "would be a good place for it.  Minerva will get together with you when she brings your broom to set up a study plan to help with your Auror ambitions a little; she's rather busy herself so that shouldn't be more than an hour or two a day.  Albus wants to talk with you about training in Occlumency and possibly Legilimency; he said that should be about an hour a day.  And all of us would be grateful if you spent as much time as possible with Hagrid and his new, er, project out in the Forest.  We'd especially like it," Lupin continued with a pained look on his face, "if you could talk him out of providing said project with a lady friend.  We think spending a significant portion of each day outside, unless it's raining, would be a good idea.  Otherwise, your time is your own.  Think you can live with that?"

 

Harry thought it over.  It meant spending two or three hours a day in study, but he knew he needed the lessons and they weren't going to be with Snape.  He was being given permission to roam wherever he wanted inside or outside the castle.  "What about my friends?"

 

"We decided against opening the Floo in the Tower; it's too much of a security risk.  You can ask any of the professors left if you may borrow theirs; they are supposed to permit it unless there is a compelling reason not to.  The Grangers aren't on the Floo network, so you're stuck with owls to keep in touch with Hermione, but the Burrow is on it and there is already lots of traffic; having Ron, Ginny or the twins over won't be a problem."

 

"And I'll be allowed to fly?" Harry confirmed.

 

"As long as you stay on the grounds, you can fly all day long."  Lupin smiled.  "Anything else?"

 

"Other than the rules for the summer, which are brilliant, what else got discussed in that meeting?  And am I supposed to eat in the Great Hall?"

 

"The house elves will bring your meals here; they don't bother with the Great Hall during the summer break.  Most of the meeting was everybody reading their letters, listening to Minerva complain that she hadn't received one, and listening to Molly scream at Dumbledore.  After the Howler got through with him."

 

"The Howler?"

 

Lupin shook his head, grinning.  "Apparently, that world's Lily was appalled at your condition.  You're too short, you're too thin, you're too concerned with the fate of the world, you're in too much danger.  From what they got from you, she has decided that this is Albus's fault and that he should change things.  Immediately.  She was quite emphatic about it.  Between the Howler and the letter she sent Molly, Albus was quite eager to ensure that the rest of your summer is as pleasant as it can be made while keeping you safe.  And Severus was so enthralled with the contents of his box, and so amazed at the letter that James sent him, that he paid no attention to your rules for the rest of the summer."

 

"I wish I could have seen that," Harry said wistfully.

 

"It was quite a sight," Lupin agreed.  "Are you planning on spending the afternoon reading?" he asked, indicating the book Harry had laid aside when he came in.  At Harry's nod, he grabbed a blanket and the stack of books.  "Outside then.  I want to see you get some sun and fresh air.  I'd like to stay and talk, but I am busy today.  How does getting together tomorrow afternoon for a proper chat sound?"  Harry nodded and spent the rest of the afternoon by the lake; reading drowsily and watching the squid drift through the water.

 

Harry had intended on speaking with Sirius that night after supper, but the events of the last week caught up with him and he fell asleep in the common room instead.  The next morning, after breakfast, Harry went to see Professor McGonagall in her office.

"Potter," she greeted him.  "First things first.  Your OWL results will be here any day; we will have a better idea where our efforts will be placed then.  In the meantime," she handed him a stack of books, "I recommend you begin working on these books.  They are not in the regular curriculum; however, they will assist you in your preparations for becoming an Auror.  There are some rumours about the OWL marks that lead me to believe that this might be something it would be worth your time to consider."  She handed Harry a brochure on teaching.

 

"Teaching?  Me?"  Harry asked.

 

"You understand, we have not yet seen the official results, so to say anything more would be premature."  McGonagall gave Harry a thin-lipped smile.  "Those four books should keep you busy for some time; I would like to meet with you twice a week to review them.  Mondays and Thursdays?"

 

Harry nodded, his head whirling at what she seemed to be implying.

 

"And finally," she reached behind her desk and pulled out his broom.  "Here is your broom.  Mind, I expect you to be back in full trim when the season begins."  She gave him a stern look that was quite spoiled by the quirk of her lips.

 

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said.  He took his broom, more rapidly than was really polite, tucked the brochure into the top book, picked up the whole stack, and nearly ran out of her office.  When he got back to the tower, he put down the books, ran back outside and kicked off.  The feeling of freedom as he rose into the air was exhilarating.  He spent the morning flying, swooping, soaring, diving and recovering.  The only thing that might have made it better was a Snitch.  And teammates.  And a match being played.

 

He felt like he could have spent the entire day in the air, but Lupin's voice called him down.  "I think you may be a better flier than James.  Or maybe it's the broom," Lupin teased as he handed Harry a sandwich.

 

The mention of the Firebolt, and the thought of who had given it to him, made Harry's stomach clench.  "I miss him so badly.  Even though I can talk to the other Sirius, I still miss my, our, Sirius."

 

"What do you mean, you can talk to the other Sirius?" Lupin asked, looking worried.  After Harry explained about the mirror, Lupin relaxed.  "I was afraid," he said, "that you might be considering visiting the other universe.  That would be a very bad idea."

 

"So everyone says," Harry replied.  "I just wish I'd been smart enough to listen to Hermione."

 

"And I wish I'd been smart enough to listen to Sirius," Lupin sighed.  At Harry's questioning look, he continued, "As soon as he knew Voldemort was back, Sirius argued with Dumbledore that you should be told about the prophecy.  He didn't know what it contained, nor do I, but we both knew Dumbledore knew and that it involved you.  Sirius believed you should be brought all the way in.  Maybe not make you an actual member of the Order, but let you in on the basics of what was happening.  To a lesser extent, I agreed with him.  Events have proved him right.  Sometimes, people are forced to make decisions and, when there isn't sufficient information, the choices they make aren't as good as they might be."  Lupin smiled sadly at Harry.  "You shouldn't blame yourself for Sirius's death.  When Severus told us what had happened, Sirius shouted at him, well at all of us, that this was what came of keeping you in the dark.  He was right; what happened was much more our fault than yours."

 

The two of them sat quietly, eating their sandwiches and looking over the grounds.  Finally, Harry started describing the people of the other universe, how some people were so much the same and how others were so different.  Lupin laughed when he heard his counterpart was in business with James in a joke business.  "That was something James always wanted to do.  He actually did develop some items for the Order.  They were useful, but they always had an element of fun.  He'd have loved the Extendable Ears and would have wanted the twins to come work with him."

 

Harry raged about the alternate Neville and what it implied about the Neville in this universe.  "He had everything going for him and that bitch robbed him of it all.  Even if I didn't want to kill her because of Sirius, I'd want to hurt her for what she did to Neville."

 

 "You mean he didn't have the memory problems Neville's cursed with?"  Lupin looked thoughtful.  "No one's ever thought that Neville might be fighting anything other than inability and lack of power, but it might be something more.  I think we might want to take a closer look at Neville."

 

"It was strange about Ron, too," Harry said, "but in the other direction.  Ron may not be the best student, the best Quidditch player, although he is our king," he joked to Lupin's snigger, "or the most powerful wizard.  But he's, well not happy, it's hard to be happy with Voldemort and Death Eaters hanging over our head, but he's content with who he is.  There, he was just angry.  I tried talking to him, but he was sarcastic and nasty."

 

Lupin thought about it for a bit.  "At a guess, I'd say it's because there he's the youngest Weasley boy.  Is he a prefect?"

 

"No, that's Neville."

 

Lupin looked surprised.  "So, he's not a prefect or a great student like Bill or Percy, he's not exceptionally talented at Quidditch like Charlie, he's not a prankster like the twins.  He's just the baby, the youngest boy, and I suppose that must be difficult for him."

 

"But that's true here as well.  Plus he's Harry Potter's Best Friend, too, which he must hate."

 

"Ah, but being Harry Potter's Best Friend is a role he's chosen, not one he was born to.  And," Lupin continued, "it's a role which has put him into danger.  Danger he hasn't run away from or allowed to change his friendship.  No, I suspect that the Ron in this universe is much more confident.  Odd, isn't it, to think how everything touches everything else; how changing one thing changes so much else."

 

The two of them continued to talk about the differences between the two universes, and the similarities.  As evening approached, Lupin stood up.  "Harry, I could sit here and talk to you for hours, but tonight's the full moon.  I need to take my Wolfsbane Potion and lock myself in.  You need to go in, get some supper and some rest.  I wouldn't bother with studying much just yet; you'll be getting your OWL results in the next couple of days and that will help you decide what needs work."  With that, he shook Harry's hand and walked up to the castle.  Harry, hoping to make him laugh, got on his broom and raced him to the entrance.  Lupin caught on and ran to the entrance, trying to beat him.  He hadn't a chance, of course, but it was the wide grin on Lupin's face that Harry took with him up to Gryffindor Tower that night.

 

After a quiet dinner, Harry decided to plan out the rest of his holiday.  He was obviously expected to study Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Occlumency.  He wanted to make time to see Hagrid, Lupin, the Weasleys, and Hermione if he could.  He wanted to have lots of time for flying and he wanted to thoroughly explore the castle.  Looking at his list, he decided he wasn't likely to have enough time to do all he wanted to do.  Knowing any real timetable he made up would just have to be changed when he got his OWLs, he decided to wait until then.  Then he'd write to Hermione.  As he fell asleep, he realized he hadn't had a single dream from Voldemort since he'd been back.  He wondered what that meant, and how long it would last, until he fell asleep.

 

When he woke up the next morning, Harry decided it was a good thing he'd had a good night's sleep.  He was bombarded by owls when he came into the common room for his breakfast.  One was Ron's hyperactive midget owl, Pig, who was zooming around the room excitedly.  The second was a calm barn owl who turned out to be from Hermione and the third was a stately owl from the Ministry.  Swallowing nervously, he reached for the Ministry owl first; thinking to get his OWL results over with.  Just as he was opening the letter, Lupin burst into the room.

 

"I just heard the OWL results were posted today and I had to see how you did," he said.  Lupin looked quite tired and peaky and there was a fresh scratch across his left cheek.  When he noticed Harry looking at him, he smiled.  "No need to worry; it was very easy this month.  I got my tail caught in my desk drawer and stumbled a bit; it's nothing to worry about.  Have you seen the results yet?"  When Harry shook his head, Lupin threw himself into a chair.  "Well, open it and put me out of my misery!  I'm dying to see your results; you have to do the Marauders proud!"

 

"Thanks for taking off all the pressure," Harry grumbled, and pulled out the papers.  Taking a deep breath he unfolded them and looked through the stack.  The first page was a letter to the student's parents, explaining the meaning and purpose of the OWLs.  Harry handed it to Lupin, completely uninterested in it.  The second page explained the different marks a student could get (you could get a Troll), and how those marks were achieved.  Harry handed that one to Lupin, too.  Lupin, for his part, glanced at the first two pages but was scarcely more interested in them than Harry was.

 

It was the third page that had the marks.  Harry was finding it very hard to get enough air into his lungs as he went through them.

 

Charms Theoretical:                                       E         

Charms Practical:                                           O

Transfiguration Theoretical:                           E

Transfiguration Practical:                               E

Herbology Theoretical:                                   A

Herbology Practical:                                       A

Defence Against the Dark Arts Theoretical:   O +

Defence Against the Dark Arts Practical:       O +*

Potions Theoretical:                                        E

Potions Practical:                                            O

Care of Magical Creatures Theoretical:        A

Care of Magical Creatures Practical:             E

Astronomy Theoretical:                                  A

Astronomy Practical:                                      P

Divination:                                                       D

History of Magic:                                            T

 

\+ indicates highest score in class

* indicates score was over 100% due to extra points given.

 

Harry realized he had stopped breathing when he took in a large breath to relieve the pressure in his chest.  He'd done much better than he'd dared hoped.  He hadn't made it into the NEWT potions class, but he had made it into the others.  Harry hoped that taking Potions wasn't actually required to become an Auror; he thought McGonagall had only said it was recommended.

 

It was only when Lupin shouted at him that he realized the man had asked him several times what marks he had received.  He had been so wrapped up in the marks he hadn't heard him.  He handed the page over to him, saying, "I guess these aren't too bad."

 

Lupin looked at the marks, smiling broadly.  "Wherever James is, he's bragging about these marks to anyone who'll listen.  You do realize that, don't you?"

 

Harry grinned.  "What would my mother be saying?"

 

"Proud of the Defence Against the Dark Arts marks; appalled at the History of Magic one."  When Harry grimaced, Lupin said, "Is that the one you were in when you got the vision of Sirius?"

 

Harry nodded.  "It was a lost cause before that, though.  I had the vision because I'd fallen asleep."

 

"Well, falling asleep is only to be expected.  After all, Binns trains you well."

 

Harry laughed at the outrageous twinkle in Lupin's eyes.  He glanced at the rest of the pages when he noticed one that didn't belong.  "Hang on a minute.  They've put an instructor's report in here . . ." Harry's voice trailed off as he looked more closely at it.  It listed him as the instructor, Defence Against the Dark Arts / Dumbledore's Army as the class and listed all of the students in the DA who had taken the OWLs or NEWTs.  Even more shocking, however, were the marks.  Every student on the list had received an E or an O in the practical exam and everyone had passed the written.  Harry gazed happily at the report; the students in the DA had worked hard and he believed they had earned those marks.  "Look at this, Professor Lupin!"

 

Lupin took the page.  He read it over and seemed stunned at first.  Then he gave Harry a look of utter pride.  "Well done, Harry!  And this will be one in Umbridge's eye.  I can't believe the students who weren't in the DA did a fraction as well."  Lupin handed the pages he was holding back to Harry.  You should look over everything in the packet carefully, but that is an OWL report to be proud of.  Well done, Harry, on everything."  Lupin stood up.  "I can't stay but I had to see how you did.  Now, I can brag outrageously to everyone I talk to."  Lupin left, waving over his shoulder.  Harry noticed happily that he was walking easily.

 

Now that he knew what the marks were, Harry was able to look at the other papers more carefully.  He had just decided that none of them told him anything he didn't already know when a school owl arrived with a note for him.  It was from Professor McGonagall, asking him to come to her office at his earliest convenience and to bring his exam results.

 

Harry arrived at McGonagall's office out of breath.  "Potter, I didn't intend for you to race here; I wanted to speak with you before lunch."

 

Harry grinned at her.  "I got good news today; I feel like running."

 

McGonagall smiled cheerfully at him; it wasn't an expression Harry was used to seeing from her.  "I can understand why you might be happy; those marks are splendid.  I asked you here to confirm your classes for next year.  I assume you have no problems with dropping Astronomy, Divination or History of Magic?"  When Harry shook his head, she continued, "Leaving aside Potions for the moment, do you want to keep your remaining classes?"  She made a notation on the page in front of her when Harry nodded.  "Excellent.  You did not receive a sufficiently high mark on your Potions exam to be admitted to the NEWT Potions course; however, the Headmaster is interceding with Professor Snape on your behalf.  In the meantime I would recommend you begin working on the Potions text I gave you."  With that, she shut the folder briskly and smiled at Harry.

 

"I found it delightful that the students in your class passed their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWLs and NEWTs easily while those who . . . ."  McGonagall's lips got very thin and her nostrils flared.  "Well, those students who didn't benefit from your instruction did quite poorly.  The difference in the marks is dramatic.  Professor Umbridge tried to claim the high scores of your students as her own; however, the Headmaster was able to demonstrate who made the difference in scores.  Since you are showing a marked proficiency in both Defence Against the Dark Arts and teaching, I will be asking you to tutor those students coming to me for additional help."

 

"Me?  My grades are all right, but tutoring?"  Harry protested, feeling stunned.

 

"Indeed," McGonagall said.  "I well may ask you to assist the first and second years with all of their subjects, but you are more than competent to assist any student at this school in Defence Against the Dark Arts and I will expect you to do so, as a member of my house."  McGonagall's face was stern, but Harry could see a glimmer in her eye.  "It isn't often I get a student who can teach a subject as well as learn it; you've shown quite an aptitude for it.

 

"Finally, Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you that he will be meeting with you in about a week to begin Occlumency lessons.  In light of your OWLs and the events of last month, he may also discuss with you the possibility of teaching you Dark Arts.  That last has not been decided and should not be discussed with anyone."  McGonagall was giving Harry a very stern look.  "Is that quite understood?"  When Harry nodded, she smiled at him and dismissed him, looking quite pleased.

 

Harry walked back to the tower slowly, trying to take in everything he and McGonagall had just discussed.  First, there was the suggestion that she thought he could be a teacher.  Not just run a study group, but actually teach people what they needed to know.  The instructor's report implied the same thing.  Even in the DA, he had thought of himself as leading a group training themselves, not teaching a class.  When he thought about it, he realized that he really had been teaching.  It was a wonderful feeling.

 

The other thing going through his mind wasn't nearly as pleasant.  Learning Defence Against the Dark Arts was important; it was also something he was good at.  He wasn't so sure he wanted to learn Dark Arts.  Sirius had said that his father had hated the Dark Arts; how would he have felt knowing his son was learning them?  If he studied Dark Arts, then what would separate him from the Death Eaters?  The memory of cursing Bellatrix with the Cruciatus Curse ate at him, too; although he couldn't regret it, he was ashamed of casting an Unforgivable Curse. 

 

It was with these confused thoughts that Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower.

 

When Harry got back to the tower, he decided he was too unsettled to try to study.  Instead, he decided to visit Hagrid.  He stood at the portrait hole when a thought struck him.  It was something he'd never be able to do when school was in session, but he hadn't seen Filch around and this was too good an opportunity to pass up.  He ran up to the dorm and grabbed his Firebolt.  Once he got through the portrait hole, he jumped onto his broom and went sailing down towards the Great Hall.  Filch was there, polishing the entrance doors.  Since they were open, Harry went flying through, enjoying the rush of air and sheer joy he always felt while flying.

 

When Harry saw Hagrid in the school gardens, he felt a stab of guilt go through him.  The last time the two had talked, Harry had cut Hagrid off when he was only trying to help.  Harry landed his broom and walked up to Hagrid.  "Hagrid, I'm sorry for how I acted last month when we were talking about Sirius.  I know you were just trying to help."

 

"Tha's all righ', Harry," Hagrid said, gently laying one of his large hands on Harry's shoulder.  "Yeh were grievin' fer him; weren't ready ter hear abou' it.  He was a good man; we all miss him."  The instant forgiveness was a little heady.

 

Harry spent the rest of the morning helping Hagrid out in the gardens.  After eating lunch, which was edible because it was provided by the house elves, Harry went out to sit by the lake and read his letters.  The first one was from Ron.

 

_Harry,_

_Bloody hell, what were you thinking?  We were all worried sick about you.  Mum and Dad came back from that meeting pretty upset but they won't tell us why.  Mum did say your Mum sent Dumbledore a Howler.  How is that even possible?_

_Ginny says to tell you that if you don't start telling us what's up, she'll hex you or send you a Howler, whichever seems better._

_Dad says the OWL reports will be out soon.  Let me know what you get as soon as you know._

_Ron_

 

Harry grinned.  It was nice to know more about what was going on than Ron this summer.  He would have to remember to send Ginny her own letter; he didn't fancy getting a Howler or one of her hexes.

 

The letter from Hermione was longer than Ron's.

 

_Dear Harry,_

_I know how you dislike living the Dursleys; however, it was very dangerous for you to leave that way.  It's a good thing it was Professor Lupin who found you and not a Death Eater.  We were all very happy when you were found safe and sound._

_I wish I could visit you this summer, but my parents are insisting that I spend it with them.  I haven't spent much time with them over the past couple of years, so we've agreed I'll spend the entire holiday with them.  They have said I can still visit my friends; I hope Professor Dumbledore will allow me to visit you and bring them with me._

_I hope we get our OWL results soon; the suspense is killing me.  Professor McGonagall told us we'd get them in July, which is almost over.  _

_I look forward to hearing about your experiences when I see you next.  I hope to see you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

 

Harry spent the afternoon writing letters.  He started with responses to Ron and Hermione, and a letter to Ginny to avoid Howlers and hexes.  After thinking about it, he then wrote letters to Fred and George, Neville and Luna.  He didn't think it was a good idea to tell them where he had been or where he was now, but he was able to tell them he was doing well and to ask how they were doing.  He asked the twins how the store was doing and if they were selling any new products.

 

After dinner, Harry pulled out the books on Occlumency and began reading.  Two of the books were the thick kind Hermione liked so much.  The third was one on types of meditation and its use in Occlumency.  Harry spent the evening reading it and taking notes on it.  The longer he read, the angrier he got.  The techniques he was reading about wouldn't have worked entirely, but he would have had more of a chance of learning Occlumency if he had been taught how to clear his mind.  When his scar began to prickle, he tried the first technique he had read about.  The pain decreased immediately.  He wasn't able to make it go away entirely, but he could make it recede.

 

As he got ready for bed that night, he realized that tomorrow would be his birthday.  Harry wondered what it would be like to have a proper birthday celebration, with candles and singing.  Then, he used the first meditation technique to clear his mind.  He slept through the night with no dreams of Voldemort.

 

The first thing Harry thought when he woke up was that today was his sixteenth birthday.  No owls had come with birthday wishes yet, but he reckoned it was only a matter of time.  The house elves gave him a large breakfast, which he tried to eat but couldn't.  When he'd finished his breakfast, he decided to ask Professor McGonagall if he could ask his friends over to visit soon.  He was on his way to her office when he ran into Professor Snape.

 

The first thing Harry noticed was that, although Snape didn't look at all happy to see him, he didn't look nearly as angry in Harry's presence as he usually did.  "Potter, I need to speak to you.  Please come to my office."

 

Harry followed Snape to his office in the dungeons.  Indicating he should sit, Snape sat behind his desk.  "Your OWL scores were insufficient for my NEWT Potions class; however, the headmaster has intervened on your behalf.  You will be permitted into my class on the following three conditions:  First, any disrespect toward me will result in your immediate removal.  Second, if you cannot keep up, you will be removed.  My NEWT class is faster-paced than the earlier class, but you will be responsible for keeping up; I won't coddle you.  Finally, were you aware that basilisks do not decompose?"

 

The non sequitur confused Harry.  "No, sir."  A thought occurred to him.  "Does that mean that the basilisk I killed is still in the Chamber?"

 

Snape almost smiled.  "Very good, Potter.  Yes, the corpse is still there.  The final condition for your being admitted to my class is that you open the Chamber and help me in harvesting that basilisk.  It is a valuable source of potion ingredients and it has been lying there long enough.  Mr. Weasley will be given the same option as you, although he cannot open the chamber.  What is your answer?"

 

"I accept," Harry said.  He wouldn't tell Snape, but he found the conditions much less onerous than he had been expecting.  He watched Snape check something on his desk, then look back up.

 

"Good," Snape said.  "I know, of course, that you were the one who found the Chamber and killed the basilisk.  What I do not know is the location of the Chamber.  I am aware that I cannot enter it without either you or the Dark Lord; however, I would like to know where it is."  He glanced again at the item on the desk.

 

"It's in the second floor girl's bathroom where Moaning Myrtle is," Harry said.  "The sink moves and exposes the opening after you tell it to."

 

"No, Mr. Potter," Snape corrected.  "After you tell it to."  He checked his desk again.  "Will you show me the entrance?  I would like to be prepared."

 

After Harry nodded, Snape picked the item off his desk, and led the way.  Once there, Harry hissed at the snake carved into the sink.  Snape carefully looked into the opening.  "How did you get down there?"

 

"We jumped in," Harry told him.  "We forced Lockhart to go first, then I jumped in, then Ron followed."

 

Snape shook his head.  "How did you intend to get back?"

 

"I wasn't thinking about getting back; I was thinking about saving Ginny."  Harry watched Snape glance at the thing in his hand.  "Sir, what is that thing?"

 

Snape looked surprised that Harry had noticed it.  "It's a reminder.  I have someplace to be later and I don't want to miss it.  How did you get back up?"

 

It took Harry a minute for his brain to catch up with the change in topics.  "Fawkes flew us out."

 

Snape nodded, and made an abortive move to check his reminder.  "How large was the basilisk?"  When Harry looked puzzled, he explained, "Knowing how large the beast was will give me an idea of how long it will take to harvest it."

 

Harry thought, trying to remember.  "The shed skin looked more than sixty feet long; the thing itself was longer, but I don't know by how much.  Is that close enough?"

 

Harry couldn't read the expression on Snape's face.  "That's . . . more than close enough.  It will take several days of hard work; we may not finish before school begins."  Snape glanced down at his reminder again.  "I must go now.  I believe Hagrid mentioned he would have lunch for you today.  With cake."  Snape gave Harry another unreadable look and swooped out of the bathroom.

 

Harry sat for a minute, trying to figure out what was going on with Snape.  After several minutes of making no headway, he gave up and went to see Hagrid.  From what Snape had said, it sounded as if Hagrid had remembered that today was his birthday.

 

When Harry got near Hagrid's hut, he discovered that Hagrid had indeed remembered that today was his birthday.  So had a number of other people; there was what looked like a huge group of people gathered around a table with a pile of presents and a large cake.  The candles weren't lit yet, but they were on the cake for later.

 

Hermione came running at Harry as soon as she saw him.  "Were you surprised?  You looked surprised!  Tell me you were surprised!"  Her bushy brown hair was braided into a plait and her face looked . . . different somehow.

 

Harry agreed that, yes, he had been quite surprised.  Then, something occurred to him.  "You had _Snape_ keep me out of the way while you set this up?" he asked incredulously.

 

Ron laughed.  "That was Dumbledore's idea.  Brilliant, really.  We knew you'd never suspect him."  Ron looked much the same:  even taller, but still with bright red hair and loads of freckles.  "Now, come on, we've all been waiting for you; we weren't allowed to start eating until you got here."

 

Harry grinned, feeling a bubble of joy rising up in him.  Looking around, he could see all of the people he most cared for were there.  The Weasleys, of course; Harry could see all of them but Charlie and Percy.  Most of the DA was there; Luna, as usual, looking as if she had just been passing by.  Lupin was there, talking with Neville's grandmother; Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Tonks.  Harry was thrilled and pleased with everyone who was there.

 

"Now, Harry," Ginny came up behind Ron, "what have you always wanted but never had at a birthday party?"

 

The first response that came to mind was "anything", but Harry thought that would dampen everyone's spirits.  After a moment, he said, "I just want candles and singing; I don't need anything fancy."

 

"In that case," teased George, "we'll just take these presents, then."

 

"You will not!" Harry yelled, and the argument degenerated into a laughing wrestling match.  The teasing in and of itself was something of a gift; the only touch Harry had grown up with had been hurtful and this was wonderful.  After separating the pile of laughing boys (several others had joined in), Mrs. Weasley shooed everyone to the buffet table for lunch.

 

Once he had filled his plate, Lupin came over to talk with him.  "What was your original answer to Ginny's question?" he asked Harry mildly. 

 

"You saw that?" Harry asked.  When Lupin nodded, he sighed.  "Anything would be more than I had with the Dursleys.  I've never had a birthday party before."  Harry smiled.  "This is wonderful."

 

Lupin shook his head.  "I know you don't remember it, but this isn't your first birthday party."  Realizing they were collecting an audience, Lupin's eyes lit with mischief.  Harry could see the Marauder in Lupin right then.  "When you turned one year old, your parents had a party for you.  It had to be small, but Lily said it wasn't right for you to turn one without anything."  His smile had grown distant with the memories.  "Several of us came to the house, your mum cooked a nice dinner and, of course, baked a cake.  Chocolate cake with white icing, little sugar snitches and brooms all over it – they were James's contribution," he said in an aside.  "After we finished eating, Lily asked James to keep an eye on you and clean you up while she cleaned up dinner.  So, James cleaned your hands and face and started talking with Sirius and I.  You were strapped securely in your high chair; I'm sure James didn't think you could get into any trouble with him sitting right there, so he wasn't paying much attention to you."

 

Mrs. Weasley was laughing and shaking her head.  "Silly man, that's when children get into the most trouble."

 

Lupin nodded.  "It certainly is.  The cake was sitting near Harry, because when Lily came back out, he was to blow out his candles.  James obviously thought it was out of Harry's reach.  There was this exciting thing sitting right in front of him.  Harry obviously thought it was some new toy, so he reached out to grab it and got a handful of icing."  Lupin had to stop to laugh for several minutes; everyone else was chuckling and waiting for him to continue.  Harry was embarrassed, but wanted him to go on.  He knew so little about his parents; he craved anything good he could hear about them.  "He wasn't expecting any of the cake to come off; he obviously thought it was one solid piece.  The expression on his face as he tried to get this horrible stuff off his hand; it was somewhere between horror and disgust.  The three of us were practically rolling on the ground by this time, so Harry decided to get our attention by crying.  Lily came out to see what was going on, checked the situation out carefully and then started hexing James into next week while cleaning Harry off.  It was bloody brilliant!"  Lupin seemed to be reliving the event; he was now laughing so hard tears were running down his face.  The rest of the party was laughing, too; including Harry.

 

"I wish I could remember that.  It must have been so funny.  But why wouldn't I have tried to eat the icing?"

 

Mrs. Weasley shook her head.  "I doubt you realized it was something to eat, dear.  I've watched all of mine have that same reaction the first time they got a handful of icing.  And somehow," she gave Mr. Weasley a look, "it always seems to happen when their father is supposed to be watching them."

 

There was more laughter over that.  Then, after listening to everyone sing 'Happy Birthday' to him and blowing out his candles, Harry reached out and picked out a small piece of birthday cake while making a horrified face.  This resulted in waves of laughter, especially from Lupin, who finally just sat down on the ground and howled.

 

The rest of the day passed too quickly for Harry.  Although he opened and praised the presents, he knew the best gift of all was the party itself.  When it came time for his guests to leave, he tried to express as best he could how much their presence had meant to him.  Most of the girls gave him hugs and several kissed his cheek.  Fred, who was saying goodbye right after Lavender, decided to go her one better, and gave him an enthusiastic hug and a kiss right on the mouth.  Harry's horrified reaction, deliberately overplayed, had everyone left laughing at Fred's antics.

 

Lupin was the last to leave.  He took Harry's hand, then shook his head and pulled Harry into a hug.  "Dumbledore is asking me to do a lot of things, but I will be around.  If I'm not here when you need me, send Hedwig; I'll get free as soon as I can."

 

"Professor Lupin, could you think of some more of the funny stories for next time?" Harry asked.

 

That got a grin.  "Not only will I bring stories, I'll bring pictures.  How's that?"

 

"You'd better make sure we're there for that," Ginny said.  "I want to see Harry's baby pictures."

 

As he got into bed that night, Harry thought it had been a perfect day.

 

**   
**


	2. Summer at Hogwarts

A school owl arrived the next morning as Harry finished his breakfast.  It was a note from McGonagall telling him that their meeting that morning was postponed until tomorrow, but that Dumbledore wanted to see him after lunch.  Harry scowled at the note; he'd been quite happy to avoid the headmaster.  Thinking of what he wanted, he decided he needed some advice.  He went upstairs, got the mirror out of his trunk and said "Sirius Black" into it.

 

A minute later, Sirius's face filled the mirror.  He was smiling, but he looked tired and a bit ill, with very blood-shot eyes.  "Good morning, Harry.  Did you have a good birthday party?"

 

Harry nodded and told him a little about it.  "I called you because I need some advice.  Dumbledore wants to talk to me this afternoon.  I really don't want to have anything to do with him.  I know I need to learn Occlumency, and he's better than Snape, but I can't stand the way he arranges my life without asking me or . . . caring about me really.  I'm just a weapon, to him, and I hate it."  Harry was surprised at himself.  He had just known he was angry with Dumbledore; he hadn't really realized why until he started talking.

 

Sirius looked thoughtful, then grinned.  "How important to you is his opinion? Are you willing to take a real risk?"

 

Harry thought.  On the one hand, he found he did still want Dumbledore's good opinion.  He was the most powerful wizard alive; he was the head of the Order, leading the fight against Voldemort.  Harry didn't have a problem with any of that, but he was tired of being left in the dark.  At that thought, he suddenly understood what Sirius was implying.  "I would like to keep his good opinion, but it's more important that he stops keeping things from me," he said.

 

"Then here's what you can do."  Sirius outlined a plan, one Harry thought would work.  The two of them spent the rest of the morning discussing the plan, the pros and cons, what to do if Dumbledore didn't react as expected, and what Harry really wanted to achieve in the end.  When the house-elves came in with lunch, Sirius finished his sentence, then said, "Good luck.  I think you'll do fine.  Contact me afterwards and let me know how it goes."

 

After eating lunch, Harry walked to Dumbledore's office.  McGonagall's note had given him the password; when he got to the gargoyle, he told it "Mars Bars" and was let inside.  He knocked on the office door and walked in at Dumbledore's invitation.

 

"Good afternoon, dear boy.  Would you like a sherbet lemon?" the headmaster offered, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses.

 

"No, thank you, I've just had lunch."  Before Dumbledore could speak again, Harry asked, "How did you get to be the one who made the decision as to where I would live after my parents died?  Didn't they leave a will?  I know they meant for Sirius to take care of me; did you even consider that?  Did anyone ever check up on me to see how I was doing?  To see if, I don't know, I was being fed?  Clothed?  Housed?  Beaten?  Who was in charge and why was nothing ever done?" 

 

Dumbledore looked taken aback at losing control of the meeting and the twinkle in his eyes faded.  "Yes, your parents did leave a will naming Sirius as your guardian.  However, all of us believed him to have been your parents' Secret Keeper and that he had betrayed us all.  The will made no provision for another guardian in the event Sirius could not take on the role; we had to improvise.  Your aunt only agreed to take you in if we had no contact with you until it was time for you to come to Hogwarts.  The Death Eaters were still at large and very dangerous; I was the executor of your parents' wills, so it fell to me to make the best provisions for you I could."

 

"So, because you wanted to protect your little weapon from the Death Eaters, you made my childhood exactly like Voldemort's.  Were you trying to create a second Voldemort or was that just a side effect?"  Harry wondered if Dumbledore had ever seen the similarities between his and Riddle's childhoods.

 

Dumbledore looked stunned.  "I won't deny I made mistakes in how you were raised.  I see the mistakes are even graver than I had realized up to last month.  I never saw the parallels between your upbringing and Riddle's until after you defeated him in your second year.  At that point, of course, it was too late to undo what had been done.  As far as my viewing you as a weapon, nothing could be further from the truth." 

 

Dumbledore sighed, obviously searching for the right words.  "I see you not as a weapon, but as a remarkable young man who promises to be the most powerful wizard alive when you finish your training.  Your heart, your ability to love others, the ability you have to evoke trust in others, are amazing in someone of your age.  You may share Riddle's charisma, but you surpass him in your heart.  To see you as a weapon is to completely miss your true, human, value.  I can understand how you might believe otherwise, but I see you as a young man it is an honor to teach and guide.  I know I cannot undo what has already been done, but is there anything I can do to begin healing the damage?"

 

Harry stood there staring at Dumbledore.  He had hoped Dumbledore would acknowledge that his decisions had been wrong, had even been damaging, but he hadn't been expecting the headmaster to completely agree with everything he was feeling.  He couldn't believe the way Dumbledore described him but, otherwise, he felt completely validated.  It was more, much more than he had hoped to hear.  Harry felt himself sink into his chair.  "What did you want to discuss with me today?"

 

The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes.  "I have prepared an agenda."  He pushed a sheet of paper across the desk to Harry.  On it was written in Dumbledore's loopy handwriting:

 

_·           Communication failure while at the Dursleys; discussion of next summer_

_·           OWL results and future career possibilities_

_·           Alternate universe_

_·           Ministry_

_·           Begin Occlumency_

 

"Communication failure?" Harry asked.

 

"That was supposed to be an apology.  The guards with whom you had the most contact were new to the Order and had received most of their impressions of you through the _Daily Prophet_."  At Harry's expression, Dumbledore nodded.  "Precisely.  They believed you were primarily looking for attention and they believed your relatives love you and provide you with emotional support.  When we realized how badly things had gone wrong, Nymphadora Tonks, who had given them their initial instructions, reiterated those instructions with a fair amount of emphasis.  They are unlikely to take any part of their instructions lightly again."

 

Harry thought about it.  "Tonks is great, but I can't see being scolded by her as being especially terrifying."

 

Dumbledore smiled.  "She asked Remus to assist her.  His condition is known to the entire Order.  I believe he, er, growled throughout her entire harangue."

 

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment.  Then he burst out into laughter.  "That must have been brilliant!  I wish I'd seen it."

 

Dumbledore chuckled.  Harry continued, "Next summer?"

 

"I wish you to think about the things which would make it easier for you to endure the time you must spend with the Dursleys next summer.  We may not be able to meet all of them, but we will try, to the best of our abilities."

 

Harry smiled and nodded, thinking that he'd discuss his ideas with Sirius and make sure the important needs were met.  He was not putting up with any more miserable summers so the Order could keep their weapon safe, but that could wait for now.  "Future career possibilities?"

 

Dumbledore looked relieved that Harry hadn't pressed him on next summer.  "Yes.  Before we discuss that, let me congratulate you on your Ordinary Wizarding Level results.  You should be very proud of yourself for your achievement; your parents certainly would have been.  You should also be quite proud of your achievement with the D.A.  Your fellow students' results, especially compared to those not in the group, were remarkable.  As well, and I was remiss at the time," Dumbledore eyes twinkled merrily, "not to mention how proud and honored I was that you named your group after me."

 

Harry felt it only right to say, "Calling it Dumbledore's Army was really Ginny's idea."

 

Dumbledore smiled and continued, "From what Minerva has told me, you only mentioned one career when the two of you had your meeting.  To be an Auror is a fine and honorable career, but we would be doing you a disservice if we led you to believe it was the only one you should consider."

 

"Professor McGonagall also mentioned I seem to have a knack for teaching," Harry added.

 

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes increased.  "Yes, Minerva has made it quite clear she believes you have the aptitude to be a fine teacher.  She keeps a sharp eye out for anyone with that gift; there are far too few who show any aptitude.  However, there are two other careers you might like to consider. Potential employers from both have expressed an interest in you.  The first is Quidditch.  I suspect you will be seeing professional scouts at some of your remaining games; there are other students they will also be scouting.  Finally, the head of the Department of Mysteries has come to me.  They keep an eye out for students who may do well in their department and you have apparently caught their interest."

 

"Me, an Unspeakable?"  Harry's first thought was complete disbelief, but then he remembered something.  Lily Potter in that alternate universe was an Unspeakable.  Had she been one here, too?  "Erm, sir, was my mother an Unspeakable?"

 

"No, but not because they didn't want her," came the answer.  "You understand, your parents were fighting Voldemort from the time they finished school.  The work your mother did was not dissimilar to that of an Unspeakable, but it was much more focused.  That is, in fact, one of the reasons they are considering you and asking you to consider them; she would have been remarkable there and they suspect you may have inherited her talents."

 

Dumbledore gave Harry a few minutes to consider what he had said.  He then pulled two business cards out of an envelope.  "This one is from a trainer in the Auror Department; he would be delighted to hear from you and to discuss your becoming an Auror."  Harry looked down at the card and grinned; the name was Kingsley Shacklebolt.  "This other one," Dumbledore continued, "is from the Department of Mysteries; he would very much like to correspond with you.  Neither of these are certainties for you, but it would do you no harm and much good to correspond with them.  Minerva will continue encouraging the teacher in you," Dumbledore's twinkle said he knew she was going to have Harry tutoring his housemates, "and the Quidditch scouts have their own time-honored rituals.  You are a young man with a great deal of potential; you should think long and hard on where that potential is best used."

 

Harry's head was spinning more than a little bit.  "I think I'm glad I don't have to make any definite decisions right now; I don't think I could.  Shall we go on to the alternate universe item?  I thought I'd already told you everything."

 

"You told us everything you remembered and thought of at the time," Dumbledore agreed.  "What I am hoping you will do is, as you think of it, write down everything you said and did, everything that was said to you and everything that happened to you while there.  I would also like you to include what you were thinking and doing, as exactly as you can, before you changed universes the first time.  I am compiling a list of questions about your experience, as are several others."  His eyes very far away, Dumbledore continued slowly, "Events like this happen rarely and understanding what happened and why enlarges our understanding of the structure of the world.  The fact that it happened to you, someone who is important to the war we find ourselves in, makes it even more important we learn as much as we can from the experience.  I can tell you that Voldemort knows that something happened to you for those three days but not yet what."  Dumbledore had a rather funny smile on his face.  "I'm afraid it's making him rather nervous; he and his followers have been very quiet since you first disappeared."

 

Harry thought it over.  "I don't mind doing it in principle, but there are a couple of things I don't want to share with anyone.  I'd also like to keep a copy of it, but I don't want to have to write it twice.  There has to be a way to make magical copies."

 

Dumbledore nodded and reached into a desk drawer, pulling out a stack of blank parchment.  "This has a specific enchantment on it; write whatever you want on it.  When you've finished, tap the page with your wand and say "_Effingo_".  If there is anything you do not wish copied, place a strip of parchment over that portion.  Keep your copy in a safe place; especially with the added material, you will not want anyone to see it without your knowledge and approval."

 

Harry sighed in relief.  He really didn't want Dumbledore to know he was in touch with the other universe, not without making plans for it.  "Ministry?"

 

"Moving right along, eh?" Dumbledore said.  "This is a difficult issue for us, Harry.  On the one hand, you have the right to speak your mind both in public and in private.  You also have the right to tell your story, as long as you are honest.  What I am about to ask of you is to limit what you say publicly."  Dumbledore sat for a moment and collected his thoughts.  "Due to the events of the last year, and their insistence that Voldemort had not returned, the current administration has a rather tenuous hold on power."

 

"Good!" Harry said savagely.  "It's no more than they deserve!"

 

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded.  "Unfortunately, the wizarding community as a whole does deserve better.  The Death Eaters, both on Voldemort's orders and for their own ambitions, are poised to take advantage of any weakness within the Ministry.  If we destabilize the current government, the Death Eaters are likely to take over, an event we do not want to happen.  You have the ability, if you were to go public about all that has transpired between you and the Ministry since Voldemort regained the use of his body, to bring down Cornelius Fudge and his entire administration.  I must ask you not to do so."

 

Harry thought about it.  He didn't really want Fudge to remain as Minister, but he remembered hearing somewhere that, before you kicked out the current bastards, it was always a good idea to see who was likely to replace them.  When he repeated this out loud, Dumbledore laughed.  "Precisely.  I especially wished to mention this since Dolores Umbridge is still working for the Minister and I know you two are rather at odds."

 

That was quite an understatement, Harry thought.  "I won't start anything, but I won't lie and I won't let them make me look bad so they look good," he said.  He was not having a repeat of last year.

 

"I would ask that you consider and discuss any actions you are considering with a responsible adult before carrying them out," Dumbledore said.  "Unless they have arrested you and placed you on trial, you should be able to take the time to consider your actions."

 

"And if they do?  Arrest me and put me on trial?"  Harry asked.

 

Once again, Harry saw the power Dumbledore usually hid behind a benign expression and twinkling eyes.  "Then we will deal with the consequences.  I won't ask you to lie and I won't ask you not to defend yourself.  It never hurts, however," he added, the twinkle back, "to hold some of your weapons in reserve.

 

Harry nodded.  He could agree to that; the responsible adult didn't have to be a teacher, a member of the Order or even in this universe.  "Occlumency?"

 

"Yes, I wanted to review what you learned with Professor Snape last year and begin where you have left off.  What techniques did Professor Snape teach you?"

 

"To clear my mind," Harry said.  "Then, he would try to read it.  He almost always managed."

 

"Yes," Dumbledore said a little impatiently, "but what techniques did he teach you to clear your mind?"

 

"None," Harry thought for a moment.  "He did say I had to clear my mind of emotions.  Or something like that."  He thought for another minute, but couldn't remember anything else of the hated Occlumency lessons.  "Sorry, that's all I remember."

 

"I see," said Dumbledore quietly.  He sat for a moment, seeming to be thinking.  "Well, I think it best to begin at the beginning.  Did Severus give you any books to read?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "The other Snape, from the other universe, gave me a couple.  Er, I don't remember the titles."

 

"Bring them with you next time," Dumbledore said.  "Was one of them _Meditation and Occlumency_?"  When Harry nodded, he said, "That is the basic beginner's text on the subject.  Have you read any of it yet?"

 

"I've read through the whole thing, but I know I missed a lot.  I've gone through almost two chapters carefully." 

 

Dumbledore began quizzing Harry on the material.  When he was satisfied Harry understood the material, he asked, "Have you had the opportunity to try any of it?"

 

"Night before last, I felt a prickle along my scar.  I couldn't tell what he was doing, just that the connection was open, I suppose.  Anyway, I tried one of the techniques, of concentrating on a candle flame, and it faded.  I couldn't get it to go away entirely, but it hurt a lot less."

 

Dumbledore smiled.  "Excellent.  For now until Monday, I want you to work with a different element each day.  Keep a note of how easy it is to work with each one, any changes you feel in the connection between you both and anything else that seems relevant.  Every night before you go to bed, practice the first exercise to clear your mind before you sleep.  If you have any questions, problems or concerns, just let me know.  Now," Dumbledore checked something on his desk, "it's rather late in the afternoon.  Why don't you go outside and get some fresh air and sunshine until suppertime."

 

It took Harry several minutes to work the tension out of his muscles, but by the time he returned to his common room, he was ready for a good flight on his Firebolt.  Swooping through the air, he decided he would have to see if he could find a Snitch to practice with.  When he finally landed, he felt immensely better.  Before he went to bed, he used the mirror to speak with Sirius, letting him know that the discussion with Dumbledore had gone well.

 

After breakfast the next morning, Harry went to McGonagall's office.  He was pleasantly surprised to discover that she expected him to take a full year to get through the books she was loaning him.  He was to read and learn one chapter a week from each of them and she would go over the material with him.  They decided to change their meetings to every Monday to go over all four subjects.  After the lesson, she allowed Harry to use the Floo to invite Ron over for the rest of the day.  Mrs. Weasley told him that Ron was at Diagon Alley helping the twins with their shop, but that he should be able to come over on Sunday.  Disappointed, Harry decided to spend the day writing letters.

 

Thinking about it, he realized he had a lot to write.  He wanted to write Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gideon Croaker.  He decided to write the first one to Gideon Croaker about the Department of Mysteries.  It was a hard letter to write.  He finally looked at what he had accomplished.

 

_Dear Mr. Croaker,_

_Professor Dumbledore gave me your card.  He told me you wanted to discuss the possibility of my working at the Department of Mysteries.  I only know a little about your department, most of it from a visit I made there in June.  I am interested in what you have to tell me.  I would like to exchange letters with you about this._

_Yours sincerely,_

Harry Potter__

 

Harry didn't think he was going to do any better writing a letter to a complete stranger.  He decided to write the next one to Kingsley.  At least he knew Kingsley and something about being an Auror.

 

_Dear Kingsley,_

_How are you doing?  Professor Dumbledore gave me the card and told me you were interested in discussing my being an Auror.  What are we supposed to talk about?  I know a little about what you do, chasing and catching dark wizards, but that's about it.  What are you working on now?  I would like to hear back from you when you can._

_Yours sincerely, _

Harry Potter__

 

Harry was trying to decide who to write to next, and wondering if it would get any easier, when he heard someone calling his name.  Looking up, he saw Luna Lovegood walking towards him with a picnic basket.  "There you are, Harry.  The house-elves asked me to give this to you.  Shall we share it?"  Luna looked as if she just happened to be there, but Harry didn't think that was too likely.  She did look happy to see him.

 

"Hi, Luna, what are you doing here?"  Then, thinking that sounded as if he didn't want to see her, he continued, "I thought you were in Sweden, looking for the Snorkack.  I thought I was very lucky to see you at my party, much less come to visit me here."

Luna set the picnic basket down.  As the two of them unloaded enough food for a dozen people, Luna said vaguely, "Daddy and I did go to Sweden, but we couldn't find any sign of the Snorkack.  So, we came home and Daddy's working on an issue about how rare species like the Crumple-Horned Snorkack need to be protected.  He thinks they may have become extinct.  When I heard you were going to be staying at school, I asked if I could visit.  Professor McGonagall said you were allowed as many visitors as you could handle and that you were studying on your own today.  I came straight over.  Sandwich?"

 

They ate lunch together, watching the squid swim through the lake and trying to decide  what the clouds looked like.  When Harry tried to apologize to Luna for putting her into danger at the Department of Mysteries, Luna looked puzzled.  "I knew it was going to be dangerous, but it seemed very important to you.  I don't have so many friends that I wouldn't try to help one in trouble."

 

Harry looked at her, puzzled but smiling.  "You are a very good friend, Luna.  Did you ever get your things back?"

 

The sudden change in topic didn't seem to bother Luna in the least.  "Yes, everything came back and in good condition.  It's more of a game than anything else, you know."

 

"So you say," Harry said.  "If I have anything to say about it, it will stop.  It's not right, what they do to you."  When Luna shrugged, he switched topics.  "Did you enjoy Sweden?"

 

"Very much so," she smiled.  "It was nice spending time with Daddy, but it's nice to be back home, too.  Can I ask you something?"  When Harry nodded, she continued, "Do you like me?  Not as a friend, I mean, but as something more?"

 

Harry realized he didn't know the answer.  He liked Luna, a lot, and found that he felt good in her company.  He didn't know what that meant, but decided that, with Luna at least, he wouldn't go wrong being completely honest.  He told her exactly what was going through his mind.

 

She smiled at him, leaned forward and kissed him.  It was completely different from when Cho kissed him.  First, she wasn't crying, which was a definite improvement.  His arms seemed to go around her naturally and he discovered she felt good in them.  He could describe the kiss as wet, but soft and sweet were better descriptions.  He couldn't stop thinking, but still it felt wonderful.  Eventually, they had to stop to breathe.  She pulled back a little and looked up at him.  "No sparks," she said.

 

He thought about it.  "Some sparks," he argued.  "Not Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, but sparks."

 

Luna shook her head, but she was smiling.  "I like you but I couldn't decide if I like you that way.  I don't think I do."  She shrugged and looked into the picnic basket.  "They packed pudding; do you want some?"

 

Harry shook his head.  He decided that, in the long run, he was happier not being Luna's boyfriend.  They spent the rest of the afternoon talking.  When suppertime approached, they walked back to the castle together.  Harry gave Luna a hug and a kiss goodbye before she went home through the Floo. 

 

Professor McGonagall was watching him carefully.  "Should I make sure the two of you are chaperoned from now on?" she asked, sounding stern.

 

"No, Professor," Harry answered happily.  "We decided we make good friends, but that's all.  It was just a nice day.  Good night, then."

 

"Good night, Mr. Potter," she replied.

 

Harry walked up to the Owlery to post the two letters he had finished.  He went back to the common room and got out the Marauder's Map.  Leaving a note on the table saying that he was taking a walk through the castle, he headed off to explore the area around the Slytherin dormitories.

 

He located the Slytherin common room and dormitories easily.  He couldn't get into them since he didn't know the password, but he confirmed that they were where he remembered them from second year.  He then went looking for Professor Snape's quarters.  The Map showed them two floors above the dorms, around a corner and hidden by a statue of a chimera.  Harry looked at the door with a sense of accomplishment; if he ever needed to find them, he now knew exactly where Snape's rooms were.  He had just turned to leave when he heard the door open and Snape step out.

 

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing out of bounds?"

 

"I'm not out of bounds, Professor," Harry told him, doing his best to sound respectful.  "My rules for the summer are that I have to stay in the castle after dark, but I don't have to keep to Gryffindor Tower as long as I leave a note saying where I am."

 

"I doubt you left a note saying you were coming to my quarters," said Snape.

 

"No, sir," Harry agreed.  "My note says I'm taking a walk through the castle.  Which I am.  Professor," he added for good measure.

 

"Indeed.  You may not be out of bounds, but I would appreciate it if you did not hang around my quarters.  I am trying to work and the noise you create is distracting me."  Snape was scowling at Harry, but he didn't seem especially angry.

 

Harry thought about arguing for a moment, but decided he was done in the dungeons for now anyway.  "OK, I was just about to explore the kitchens anyway.  Good night."  Harry had turned and moved most of the way to the corner when Snape's voice stopped him.

 

"If you're going to the kitchen, you can make yourself useful and ask the house-elves to serve a late tea in my rooms," came the request.  After a moment of surprise, Harry nodded.  Snape nodded back and returned to his rooms.

 

Harry hadn't really planned on going to the kitchens, but he decided that running the errand for Snape couldn't do any harm.  After delivering Snape's request to the house-elves, he returned to the tower with an armful of snacks.  He spent the rest of the evening reading his texts, making notes and munching snacks.  When he finally went to bed, he felt it had been a day well spent.

 

Saturday was spent much as Friday had been.  Instead of meeting with Professor McGonagall and spending the afternoon with Luna, Harry spent the day with Hagrid.  The two of them talked about everything that had happened over the past year while walking through the Forbidden Forest to visit Grawp.  Grawp really was much better behaved these days:  he was talking more, he was easier to understand and he wasn't pulling up trees just for the fun of it.  Hagrid told Harry about a day several weeks ago when he had asked Grawp to pull out a couple of trees for firewood and to give some additional sunlight to the plants in the area.  He'd had to argue with the giant for some time to convince him that it was all right to uproot these trees.  Harry agreed that it showed great progress.

 

That night, Harry explored the area around the Ravenclaw dorms and found Professor Flitwick's quarters.  He made sure he'd be able to find the area easily if he needed to later.  He went back to his own common room to study, but a short time later was visited by an upset house-elf.  "Was Sir not happy with his tea last night?" the creature asked him, twisting its hands in its tea towel.

 

"No, no," Harry reassured her.  "The snacks were great.  You were just too generous, I couldn't finish them last night, so I saved some for tonight."  He pointed to the platter he had left for his snack tonight.

 

The elf was horrified.  "But, Sir, those are being a day old; you can't eat those," she insisted.  And nothing would do but she take the perfectly good platter of day-old snacks away and return with a new one, overflowing.

 

"I can't eat all of these and I don't want them to go to waste," Harry protested.

 

"Sir need not be worrying," she reassured him.  "We house-elves get the leftovers; they won't go to waste."

 

At that Harry gave up, thanked the elf, and hoped they enjoyed the snacks.

 

The next morning was the first time since he returned to Hogwarts that Harry did not wake up of his own accord.  He was woken by Ron, shaking him and yelling at him to wake up.

 

"Why do I have to get up at whatever ungodly hour of the morning this is?" Harry asked grumpily.

 

"I'm sorry," Ron said with no conviction.  "It's just that Sunday is the only day I can visit unless we're helping Snape with that basilisk.  I don't want to waste the day watching you sleep."

 

"You're spending that much time at the shop?"

 

"Yeah, and I'm getting paid for it too.  C'mon, there's breakfast in the common room; let's go."

 

By the time Harry got himself dressed and down to the common room, Ron was already tucking into breakfast.  Harry watched amused as Ron stuffed his face.  "You can't tell me your mum didn't feed you before you left," he said, filling his own plate.  Ron shrugged and the two of them ate quickly.

 

"What do you normally do with yourself all day?" Ron asked.  He acted like there was nothing for Harry to do.

 

"Depends.  I've been flying a lot, doing some studying, exploring, sitting out by the lake.  What do you want to do?"

 

"Flying sounds great," Ron answered.  It turned out he had brought his broom, so they set off for the grounds.

 

Once they'd stepped through the portrait hole, Harry turned with a grin.  "Have you ever wanted to fly through the castle?"

 

Ron's eyes widened.  "They can't take points, can they?  Or give detentions?  Or can they?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "They could probably give us a detention, but Filch didn't even yell at me the other day."

 

"Brilliant!" Ron said, taking off on his Cleansweep.

 

Harry was right behind him on his Firebolt, then passed him.  The entrance doors were open again so they sailed through and started racing each other over the grounds.  They spent the morning flying, doing all the tricks and stunts they wanted.  It was another beautiful day, clear and warm, and the two boys reveled in it.

 

Ron's stomach was almost as good as a clock for telling mealtimes; he started complaining about being hungry just before noon.  They went up to where their lunch was sitting and tucked in.  As they were eating, Harry started working up the nerve to talk some things over with Ron.

 

"Ron, do you remember that night?"  Harry found he couldn't say which night it was, but Ron knew anyway.  After he nodded, Harry asked, "Do you remember the prophecy?"

 

"Yeah, it was destroyed, which seems a shame.  If Trelawney actually made a real prophecy, it'd be nice to know what it was."

 

Harry took a deep breath.  "All that was destroyed was the record.  She told the prophecy to someone who can, erm, tell it when he wants."  Harry took another deep breath.  "She was discussing the Divination position with Professor Dumbledore; he's the one who heard the prophecy."

 

Ron's eyes were wide and he seemed to have stopped breathing.  "Has he told you?"

 

"I'm not ready for anyone else to know yet; you have to keep this quiet," Harry said.  After Ron promised, he closed his eyes and recited, _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . ."_ *

 

When he finished, Harry sat feeling both terribly drained and terribly relieved.  Ron was the first person he had told about the prophecy, at least in this universe.  He waited, letting Ron think it over.  Ron was sitting in one of the squashy armchairs in the common room, staring into the fire, showing no emotion.

 

They sat in silence for several moments when Ron suddenly jumped up and punched the wall, letting loose a string of words that would have had his mother punishing him.  "He told you this and sent you back to those people?" he shouted, when he had started to calm down.  "Is he trying to drive you mad?"

 

"I trust him," Harry said calmly.  "But I don't understand all of his decisions, either.  He said, when we were talking that night, that he'd made mistakes; one of them being not telling me about the prophecy years ago.  It's one of the reasons, maybe the major reason, I left the Dursleys this summer.  Ron, you will keep this quiet, won't you?"

 

Ron nodded.  "Of course, Harry, you can count on me.  But," Ron looked troubled, "aren't you going to tell Hermione?"

 

"Yes," Harry said.  "But I want to tell her in person, and I want to tell her in such a way that she doesn't go mad.  I don't think she'll be content with punching the wall and she doesn't use those words."  Ron glared at Harry's amused glance, but then his face softened. 

 

"Blimey, Harry, it's not bad enough you have a madman after you, but now there's a prophecy you have to kill him."

 

"I have a madman after me," Harry corrected, "because there's a prophecy I have to kill him.  He didn't come after my parents that night.  He went through them to get to me; I was what he was after."  Harry sighed, staring into the fire.  "I keep telling myself I should be pushing you and the others away.  I keep getting people killed.  First my parents, then Cedric, now Sirius.  Who's going to be next?"

 

Ron didn't let Harry continue.  "Stop it!  You didn't get anyone killed!  Voldemort killed your parents, and he would have anyway even if he wasn't coming after you.  The prophecy says they defied him three times; I bet they were on the top of his list.  Wormtail killed Cedric and the only reason we know what happened to him is he was too

honorable not to let you win.  And before you start saying you shouldn't have let him take the Cup," Ron continued, seeming to know just what Harry was thinking, "you're too honorable to have robbed him of it.  And Sirius."  Ron stopped a minute, looking as if he wanted to say something he knew would upset Harry.  "Sirius," he continued more quietly, "was dying in that house.  He needed to get out of it; rescuing you gave him a good reason instead of doing something stupid.  And it isn't your fault!  If they knew Voldemort was coming after the prophecy, they should have told you.  You wouldn't have been tricked if you knew there was a reason to trick you!"

 

"Harry, listen to me," Ron said, leaning forward intently.  "It's not that you haven't made any mistakes.  It's that you keep trying.  Dad showed me the letter your, er, the other James Potter sent him.  Coming from someone outside . . .  Dad says it made them really think about how everyone treats you.  Then, they talked to Ginny, the twins and I about everything we know about what's been happening.  I think Ginny's the most upset.  She's been saying for a while that you grew up like Riddle did, but you're, well, you're everything he never was."

 

Ron stopped talking for a minute and stared at the ceiling.  "I'm not doing this very well.  What it comes down to is this:  if you need anything we can give you, from decent food to someone to talk to, you only have to ask." 

 

Ron looked as if he were going to say more, but seemed to have decided not to.  Harry was glad; he felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach.  Ron sounded ferocious; not angry with Harry, but angry for him.  Then, something about the way Ron was talking hit Harry.  "You were talking to somebody else about me.  I mean, I can't see you coming up with all that by yourself."

 

Ron grinned sheepishly.  "Hermione keeps asking me to fellytone her, we've been owling each other almost every day and Ginny keeps writing her these epics and getting even longer ones back.  Between the two of them, they've dissected everything they possibly can."  He shook his head.  "It's one of the reasons I think you should tell both of them about the prophecy.  They're more likely to help you figure it out; me, I'm just the bloke who gets left behind."

 

The image of the other Ron came to mind and Harry found himself grateful that his Ron, if not drowning in self-confidence, at least wasn't so angry.  "You're more than the bloke who tries to help.  You're . . ."  Harry tried to think of what to say without sounding mushy.  He wasn't sure which of them would hate that more.  "You're the one who watches my back.  You're the best chess player I know if we could just work out how to use it.  You're . . ."  Harry gave up.  "If I have to do this any longer, I'm going to start getting mushy; do you want that?"

 

"No," Ron said.  "One Hermione's enough.  Look, let's wait until you can tell her; then we'll let her figure out what to do next."

 

This sounded like a good idea to Harry.  They spent the rest of the afternoon playing chess, returning to Professor McGonagall's office when it was time for Ron to leave.  Before he did, he shook Harry's hand and gave him a stern look.  "I don't want to sound pushy, but I want to hear from you regularly.  And I want to hear immediately if you need anything, do you hear me?"  Harry agreed as Ron left.

 

As Harry turned to leave McGonagall's office, she stopped him.  "I'm pleased to see your friends are making sure you're doing well, Mr. Potter," she said.  "You're very fortunate to have them."

 

"I know," Harry told her.  He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing by not pushing them away, but he knew he couldn't do it.  He also knew, now, that they wouldn't let him.  "Believe me, I know."

 

Harry spent most of the next week on his own.  He worked his way through his summer work, trying to get through at least a chapter every day, something he managed more often than not.  He spent an hour with Dumbledore every morning working on Occlumency.  That was going very well.  He was occasionally feeling prickles in his scar, but one or another of his exercises let him block out even that.  He explored a different section of the castle every evening; after locating each of the Houses, he decided to find the location of all of the teachers' quarters.  He couldn't get in them, of course; they were much too well warded, but still it was enlightening to find them all.  He also visited Hagrid and Grawp about every other day.  Neither of them mentioned anything more about finding Grawp a girlfriend, so Harry decided it was better not to raise the subject.

 

He also continued receiving and writing letters.  He got a letter back from Kingsley asking what Professor McGonagall had him studying that summer and telling him funny and scary stories about what he and his colleagues were doing.  Although he didn't see anyone but Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Grawp and Dobby, who had taken to bringing him his bedtime snack, Harry wasn't feeling lonely.  It felt more like the quiet before a storm, and he could sense that a storm was coming.

 

Harry was taking the Daily Prophet again and, every morning, he read it cover to cover.  There weren't any reports of attacks, but there were many articles on how to protect yourself from assorted dark spells and creatures.  The letters to the editor were filled with people worried about what was going to happen, people who believed that Fudge should be removed from office immediately and people who felt that anyone who questioned Fudge should be thrown into prison.  Harry also noticed that there were no reports of trials or anyone sent to Azkaban.  Dumbledore refused to tell him anything when he asked, saying that they had no information, only rumors.

 

As Harry headed back into the castle for supper on Saturday night, he noticed dark clouds starting to roll in.  It appeared a storm was coming.  This seemed to be confirmed when a school owl soared into the common room while he ate.  It was from Snape and informed him that, since it would be raining tomorrow, it would be a perfect time to harvest the basilisk.  Harry scribbled his agreement on the note and sent it back.

 

*Rowling, J.K.  Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.  Arthur A. Levine Books:  New York, NY.  2003.  p. 841.

**   
**


	3. Return to the Chamber

As Harry headed back into the castle for supper on Saturday night, he noticed dark clouds starting to roll in.  It appeared a storm was coming.  This seemed to be confirmed when an owl soared into the common room fireplace while he ate.  It was from Snape and informed him that, since it would be raining tomorrow, it would be a perfect time to harvest the basilisk.  Harry wrote a confirmation on the note and sent it back.

 

When he came down the common room the next morning for breakfast, he found another note on the hearth.  It told him to meet Snape in front of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with his broom and all of the protective gear he owned at 9:00am.  This gave him time for a leisurely breakfast before he headed down.

 

When he got to the second floor, he found Hermione there with her parents and Professor McGonagall.  "Hi, Hermione, I didn't expect to see you here today."  He walked over and shook her parents' hands.

 

"No wonder," she said.  "You didn't tell me what you and Ron were doing with Professor Snape; I had to find out from Ginny.  Of course, I immediately asked if I could come along; it sounds like a wonderful opportunity."

 

"Erm, yeah.  So Professor Snape agreed?"  Harry couldn't help noticing that Hermione's parents looked as skeptical as he did that this would be "wonderful".

 

Hermione nodded eagerly.  "He said it might be useful having me along.  He wouldn't agree to Ginny coming, though.  He said it was bad enough having the three of us along; he didn't want to have to worry about a fifth-year who was, er, in trouble there before."

 

Harry raised his eyebrows.  The way Hermione was talking, her parents had no idea what had happened in the Chamber.  He stared wondering how much they knew about what went on at school.  "I'm just as happy to hear about that.  We'll have to find some way to make it up to Ginny, though, if she really wanted to come along."  He would have gone on, but Ron walked up to them with Professor Snape.  McGonagall introduced him to the Grangers; after he'd sneered at them, she took them off to her office, stating that Hermione could give them a full tour after they were finished in the Chamber.

 

Harry had brought along his dragon-hide gloves, the only protective gear he had, along with his Firebolt.  Ron had brought his broom, gloves, and some other leather clothes Harry assumed he'd borrowed from one of his brothers.  Hermione had brought her gloves, a pair of goggles and her school bag, which looked as if it held half a dozen very thick books.  Snape was carrying a large amount of gear, which he dropped unceremoniously to the floor.  In addition to gloves, he also had what looked like several goldfish bowls, a broom, a great deal of rope, a box filled with potion vials and an assortment of ingredient bags.  He looked over what the three students had brought with them.  "In general," he told them, "the gloves will be sufficient protection, but they will be inadequate when we go to collect the fangs and venom sacs.  Mr. Weasley, you are actually fairly well prepared, but I will still require you to wear the head protection I brought.  Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, you are both fortunate I have additional gear you may borrow; what you have is completely inadequate for the job.  Miss Granger, I told you to bring your broom."

 

"I don't have a broom," Hermione told him.  "I don't like flying.  Why do we need a broom anyway?  We're going under the castle, aren't we?"  She looked to Ron and Harry for confirmation.

 

"After examining the entrance, I have determined that it will be more . . . pleasant flying down than sliding down."  He smirked at her.  "I assume one of your classmates will permit you to share.  Or you may go and give your parents their tour, since you are not required for this endeavor."

 

After a moment's discussion, in which both Ron and Harry had offered to fly Hermione down with them, Hermione decided she would go down with Ron.  They divided the gear between the four of them and went into the bathroom.

 

Unlike on his birthday, this time they were greeted by Moaning Myrtle.  She was sitting in the U-bend, picking a spot on her chin.  She smiled at Harry.  "Hi, Harry, it's been ages since you've come to visit.  I was hoping you'd come by during the summer holiday.  I don't think you'll get into trouble during the summer."

 

Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him and could tell that Ron and Hermione were suppressing giggles.  "Erm, hi, Myrtle.  We were just passing through to get rid of that basilisk.  The one who, erm, is left in the Chamber.  It'll probably be a while before we come back through."

 

"Oh," Myrtle looked disappointed.  "You never want to spend time with me any more.  It was so much nicer when the three of you were here all of the time."

 

Harry could feel his face reddening as he walked over the sink   He found the engraving on the tap and hissed at it.  The sink sank out of sight and the entrance to the underground passage was revealed.

 

Hermione looked cautiously down the pipe.  "How would we get down there without brooms?" she asked, looking faintly horrified.

 

"We slid down it," Ron said matter-of-factly.  "Flying will be a lot easier."  He mounted his broom and held it steady for Hermione.

 

"Wait one minute," Snape broke in.  "I will go down first, to confirm that it is still, relatively, safe.  When I call up, you will follow, Mr. Potter first, then Mr. Weasley with Miss Granger.  Is that understood?"  When the three of them nodded, he picked up his share of the gear, mounted his broom and flew down the pipe.  Harry was impressed; he hadn't expected Snape to fly as gracefully as he did.  A moment later, his voice came up, "Other than being utterly filthy, it seems safe down here.  You may follow."  Harry rolled his eyes and flew down, followed several minutes later by Ron and Hermione.

 

Snape was exploring the area at the bottom of the pipe, his lip curled with distaste.  "I gather there is no ambient light?"

 

"Not here.  There's some light in the Chamber itself," Harry told him.  All four of them lit their wands and began to walk through the passage.  Although he wasn't as afraid as he had been the last time he was down here, it was still an eerie place to be.  The others seemed to feel the same way; no one spoke as they walked. 

 

The silence was broken when they came to where the roof had caved in.  "Was this here before?" Snape asked, checking the walls and ceiling of the area carefully.

 

"Yeah," Ron said.  "Lockhart caused it.  He was trying to Obliviate Harry's memory with my old wand, which was broken, and brought the ceiling down."  Ron shuddered a little.  "It was pretty awful; the whole time we were waiting for Harry, I kept expecting the ceiling to cave in completely and either kill us all, or trap Harry and Ginny on the other side."  He looked over at Snape, who was looking at the rock fall, no expression on his face.  "She's pretty upset you wouldn't let her come along, you know.  She wanted to face this place and exorcise it from her nightmares once and for all."

 

Harry could understand why Ginny might feel that way, but he was just as glad Snape had refused her.  He would have a very hard time seeing Ginny in the Chamber without seeing her white and cold and so very still.  Just thinking about it, he had to swallow hard against the ball of fear in his throat.

 

Snape shrugged.  "I will consider it after we see what waits ahead of us.  You and Mr. Potter are performing a detention and I am willing to allow Miss Granger's curiosity since she may actually be able to help.  I did not want to worry about a possibly emotionally distraught girl while trying to collect potion ingredients.  How did you get through?"

 

"I was on the other side when the ceiling collapsed," Harry said.  He realized his voice was very faint and cleared his throat.  "While they were waiting for me, Ron cleared enough space for Ginny and I to get through."  He stared at the fall for a minute, then started to clamber through the hole left.

 

"Wait a minute, Potter.  Let me clear a path and strengthen the walls and ceiling here," Snape said.  He pulled out his wand, concentrated a minute, and cast a series of spells.  What looked like a doorway formed and the cracks in the ceiling filled in.

 

"Could you teach us those spells, Professor?" Hermione asked, examining the ceiling with interest.  "They could be very useful someday."

 

"How many half-collapsed underground passages do you intend to explore?" the professor snapped.  "I will give you the book in which I found them, but I won't waste my time teaching useless spells when there are better ones for you to learn."  With that, Snape swooped past them, strode through the new doorway, and continued down the passage.  Ron, Hermione and Harry exchanged looks and shrugs, and followed.

 

As they neared the Chamber, Harry felt his throat closing.  He reminded himself that the basilisk was dead, that the diary was gone, that there was no longer anything down here to threaten them, but his stomach didn't want to believe it.  By the time he met the other three at the actual entrance, he was sweating.

 

Harry looked up at the two emerald-eyed serpents and hissed the word &lt;i&gt;Open&lt;/i&gt;.  He led the others down the corridor of serpentine columns, fighting the urge to turn and run back.  When they finally reached the statue of Salazar Slytherin, they could see the corpse of the basilisk lying near where he had seen Ginny. 

 

Harry was now breathing very hard, but he didn't seem to be getting any oxygen to his lungs.  His chest hurt, his vision was graying and his ears were buzzing.  He felt someone take his arm and sit him down, pushing his head between his knees.  Someone, he couldn't tell whom, told him to breathe deeply, slowly.  Several minutes passed, before he felt able to sit up without passing out.  He looked up to see Snape kneeling before him, one hand on his wrist taking his pulse.  Ron and Hermione were standing behind him, wide-eyed. 

 

Snape looked over his shoulder at Ron.  "Now I believe you can understand that I didn't want to deal with two people having panic attacks."  He turned back toward Harry.  "How are you feeling?"

 

"A bit stupid," Harry admitted.  "I can't help thinking about the last time I was here.  I'll be all right," he told them, starting to stand up.

 

"Probably," Snape agreed, "but you're going to sit there until I'm certain of it.  Stay there.  Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, stay with him so he doesn't do anything more foolish than normal." 

 

Ron glared at him, then crouched down to Harry.  "Are you really okay?  You looked pretty awful there." 

 

Harry nodded, watching Snape.  He had walked over to the basilisk and appeared to be walking its length, measuring it.  "How did you kill it?" he called over to Harry.

 

"I put the sword through the roof of its mouth," Harry answered. 

 

Snape came back to where they were, drew on a pair of gloves and a leather coat, and strode back to the corpse.  There, he carefully opened its mouth and examined it; first the hole left by the sword, then its fangs.  "It's missing a fang," he said.

 

"When I stabbed it, it bit me.  Its fang broke off in my arm," Harry told him.

 

Snape stood up and stared at Harry.  After a moment, in which it looked like he started to say several different things, he finally said, "How did you survive?"

 

"Fawkes's tears," Harry answered.  "I would've been dead if he hadn't been here.  I'm feeling better; can I get up and come over there now?  I'm tired of shouting."

 

Snape shook his head and rejoined the group.  "The headmaster never mentioned that you had been bitten by that thing.  I also put the size you gave me down to exaggeration; it would have been perfectly understandable."  Snape looked at the basilisk again, then turned back to the students, his eyes dark and unreadable.  "This will be more dangerous than I initially realized; it is not at all appropriate for any of you to be here.  Will the door stay open if you leave?"

 

Harry realized Snape was going to try to get the three of them out of there and cut the thing up by himself.  Not only did Harry know it was a bad idea, but he realized he wanted to see it gone.  There were too many things that could go wrong and, without Harry, no one else would be able to go in after him.  Before he could say anything, Hermione spoke up.  "Professor, we're already here and we knew the risks, better than you did.  We ought to help you; it isn't a job for one person."

 

"You'll never be able to finish this in one day," Ron added.  "I don't think all four of us can finish in one day.  You'll just have to drag Harry back down here again, and Hermione and I will just insist on coming with him.  We might as well help you while we're here."

 

Harry stood up.  "It was just coming back in here the first time," he said.  "Now that I'm here, knowing that Ginny's fine and Riddle's gone, or his diary-self is, I'm okay and I want to cut that monster up into useful little bits.  Pieces that won't be able to hurt anybody ever again."

 

Snape sneered at the three of them, but his expression lacked its usual disdain.  "I wouldn't go that far, Mr. Potter.  Many of the potions that use basilisk components are harmful ones.  But if you three are so foolish as to continue to offer your services, I'm not fool enough to turn them down.  You will, however, follow my instructions to the letter.  Is that understood?"  After getting agreement from the three of them, he told them to put on gloves, coats and the bowls to protect their heads.  He then set the three of them to skinning the basilisk.  "We will also collect the shed skin I saw back there where the ceiling collapsed; that has its uses, too."

 

While the three of them set to work removing the skin, Snape began on its mouth.  He carefully removed each of its teeth, placing each in its own separate container.  Once he had finished that, he told them to move to the other side of the Chamber.

 

"Why?" Hermione asked, obviously keen to see as much of what Snape was doing as she could.  When Snape glared at them, they moved to the other side of the Chamber, Hermione still craning to see what Snape was doing.

 

"I'm about to remove the venom sacs," he said.  "I want no distractions; it is the most dangerous part of this entire operation."  With that, he bent down and cut into the basilisk's mouth.  They could see him remove one sac, as large as a human head and obviously full of venom.  Snape carefully placed it into a large, clear container which he sealed.  He then stood and stretched, shaking out his muscles.  "To answer your next question, Miss Granger, that amount of venom could kill every being in this school twice over.  I want to be in full control when I remove the second one, since that one may not be intact."  Snape bent back down and began cutting on the other side.  Several minutes later, he stood up, a second sac in his hands.  His eyes were troubled; this one held only about half of what the first one had.  Harry felt his stomach clench; he had probably had the rest in him.  Snape placed it in its own container, sealed it, and walked over to them.  "Mr. Potter, sit down," he snapped, before he'd reached them. 

 

Harry didn't understand what he meant at first; his brain was still focused on having all that venom in him.  Ron had caught on; before Harry could react, Ron had grabbed his arm and was helping him sit down.  He didn't feel as if he were about to faint this time, just as if he were about to vomit.  "I'm okay," he said irritably.  "If all that poison didn't kill me, hearing about it certainly won't."

 

Snape shook his head.  "If it helps, I doubt all of that went into you.  It's likely much of it was lost when the fang was broken and the basilisk died."  His hand went back to Harry's wrist to check his pulse again.  Harry pulled away; he wasn't about to have Snape of all people treat him like a frightened child.  "Very well," Snape sneered at him.  "Your color's better; you should be fine now.  Shall we continue?"

 

They spent the rest of the day cutting up the basilisk.  Many of Snape's containers turned out to be much larger than they appeared; they were able to package up all of their work.  Snape had cut up the head, which seemed to be very delicate work judging from the care he took at it.  Harry, Ron and Hermione finished skinning it and began carefully deboning it.  Snape finally called a halt about suppertime.  He stood, stretching out the muscles of his back.  "We've accomplished quite a bit more than I expected," he told them.  "I believe one more day like this will finish the job."

 

Ron took a deep breath and asked, "Professor, my sister would really like to help us finish.  Would you allow her to?"

 

Snape thought a moment, but shook his head.  "Miss Weasley will have to exorcise her demons on her own time; I have better things to do."

 

Harry tried not to show how relieved he was at Snape's answer.  He really, _really,_ didn't want to see Ginny here.

 

They had started to walk back when Snape called to them.  "Why walk?  It's easier, and quicker, to fly."  He was already on his broom and had taken off.

 

Harry and Ron exchanged looks and were on their brooms in a minute.  Hermione sighed and climbed on behind Ron.  The three of them soared after Snape; Harry passed him before they reached the pipe.  When Ron and Hermione reached the bathroom, they handed back Snape's equipment, as well as everything they'd collected.  He left the bathroom, heading for the dungeons.

 

They headed up to McGonagall's office to rejoin Hermione's parents.  Ron had permission from his parents to spend the night, so he and Harry had offered to come along while Hermione showed her parents the school.  Hermione had accepted, but still seemed troubled.  She finally admitted, "It's like this.  I tell them about classes, and Quidditch and all the differences between the Wizarding world and the Muggle world does, but I've never told them about what we get up to.  You know, the dangerous stuff.  They don't know about Voldemort or anything.  So, please, don't tell them.  I don't want them to worry."

 

This announcement stopped Ron and Harry dead in their tracks.  "What do you mean, you haven't told your parents about anything?  How can you tell them about me without mentioning Voldemort?" Harry demanded, appalled.

 

"I told them your parents were murdered by an evil wizard," Hermione told him calmly, "and that you've been raised by your horrible relatives.  And I've told them what a good friend you are.  That's what's most important, isn't it?"

 

Harry found himself genuinely warmed by what Hermione considered important while at the same time he was appalled at how she had kept her parents ignorant of their danger.  "Are they aware that they're in danger themselves?" he asked quietly.

 

"Why would they be in danger?"

 

"Do you admit you're in danger?"  Harry's voice became even quieter as he felt his anger rising.

 

"Well, yes, but what difference does that make?"  Hermione was starting to sound as if she were talking to an over-emotional child.

 

The thought that Hermione was intentionally keeping her parents in the dark, as he had been kept in the dark, infuriated him.

 

"I don't know.  You have worked out that Voldemort might come after me through my friends, haven't you?  And the fastest way to my friends is THROUGH THEIR FAMILIES?  DO YOU WANT TO GET THEM KILLED?"  Harry roared.  .  "DON'T YOU THINK THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO PROTECT THEMSELVES?  THEIR DAUGHTER?"  He was shaking now, in rage and guilt.  No one else was going to be hurt because of him or because of ignorance if he could stop it.

 

Hermione was staring at him, her wide eyes filled with tears.  "I didn't think . . .  No one else has said . . .  Do you really think they're in danger?" she finished in a very small voice.

 

Harry took a breath to tell her exactly what he thought when Ron stopped him.  "I think the smartest thing you can do is talk to my parents," he said.  "They know what the danger is and can probably tell you how much your parents are in.  I know you think they're in a lot of danger," Ron said to Harry, "but I don't think it's as much as you think it is.  We should talk to my mum and dad and get some advice."

 

Both Harry and Hermione agreed that this was probably the best thing to do.  Harry realized that he wasn't angry with Hermione so much as scared for her and her parents.  Having her talk to Ron's mum and dad calmed him down; the Weasleys would be able to convince her to tell her parents what they needed to know.  "When did you get so smart?" Hermione asked Ron, giving him a look Harry couldn't decipher.  Ron shrugged as they got to McGonagall's office.

 

When they entered the room, it was thick with tension.  Professor McGonagall looked very stern, her lips thin and her eyes glittering.  Mr. and Mrs. Granger were pale and tense, clutching cups of tea.  All three adults turned to look at Hermione as the three of them entered.  Harry suspected the conversation with Ron and Hermione didn't matter; it looked like Hermione's parents had already been told enough for them to worry.

 

"Hermione, dear," her mother said, "please tell us a little more about the potion ingredients you were collecting today?"

 

"You understand," her father said.  "We were under the impression it was some kind of growth found in the cellars of the castle."

 

Hermione froze and glanced at McGonagall.  She looked coolly at Hermione, waiting to hear what she had to say.  "We were cutting up a creature which, er, died in a hidden part of the building.  Harry is the only, well one of only two, people who can get there.  Professor Snape told Harry and Ron their help was a requirement to get into the NEWT Potions class.  I wasn't required to help, but as I told you, it is a unique opportunity.  I learned a great deal today, about the collection of potion ingredients and dealing with rare creatures."

 

Harry was impressed; she had managed to describe what they had been doing today without lying or even stretching the truth too badly.  Unfortunately, he had a pretty good idea that her parents already knew more than she had told them.  Probably about a great many things.

 

"Is the other person who can get there this wizard your Professor McGonagall has been telling us about?" Mr. Granger asked.  "The one who has been active for over a year?  The one whose followers hurt you?  In what wasn't an 'unfortunate incident' but a bloody great battle in which you could have died!"  He started out sounding calm, but he was on his feet shouting by the time he'd finished.

 

Mrs. Granger was pale and looked more than a bit frightened.  "Darling, why didn't you tell us how dangerous things were here?  We can get you into another school, one where you'll be safe."

 

Professor McGonagall interrupted her.  "Mrs. Granger, we have a great deal to discuss and that discussion will need to include your daughter.  However, I don't believe we need to include Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley in that discussion; they are not properly a part of it."

 

"It sounds to me as if they've been getting her into trouble for quite some time!" Mr. Granger shouted.  "This Potter boy especially has been leading her into danger whenever it suits him!  What other . . ."

 

"Daddy, please stop it," Hermione interrupted him.  She was pale, but she was getting the look in her eye that Harry knew meant trouble; the one that she got when discussing SPEW or Dumbledore's Army.  "First, Harry would do just about anything to keep me &lt;i&gt;out&lt;/i&gt; of trouble!  He's pulled me out of trouble more times than I can mention."

 

Harry started to contradict her.  He had rescued her a few times, but it was usually from something he'd gotten her into in the first place.  The look in her eyes stopped him; he could tell that anything he said would just get him into trouble with Hermione.

 

"But more important than that," Hermione continued firmly, her voice steady and sure, "is the fact that the trouble we get into isn't just fooling around.  It's important!  Yes, trouble finds Harry, but he doesn't go looking for it.  The wizard who murdered his parents, Voldemort, tried to kill him that same night.  He failed, it rebounded on him and almost destroyed him.  He's been trying to return to power, and incidentally, to kill Harry, ever since.  Harry's been fighting him and won't stop until one of them is dead.  And I'll help him, in whatever way I can, because it's the right thing to do.  Because, if I don't, if we fail, then evil wins and I, we, won't let that happen.  Not if we can do anything to stop it."  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  "I know now that keeping all of this from you is wrong in several ways.  I'm sorry about that, but I'm not sorry for being friends with Harry and Ron and I'm not going to stop being friends with them.  And I'm not changing schools.  I'm a witch and I need to finish my training."

 

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry told her quietly.  "Do you want Ron and I to stay while you, er, discuss all of this with your parents, or should we let you talk privately?"

 

Mrs. Granger looked at him, troubled and worried and a little overwhelmed.  "Harry, do you really believe it has to be you who stops this murderer?  Don't you think that's a job for the police?  Or whatever you wizards call  police?  You're just a boy; it shouldn't be your responsibility."

 

Harry looked at her.  "Mrs. Granger, I'd like to let the adults handle it but it doesn't seem to work that way.  There's a lot of reasons for it, but it seems it has to be me.  I don't want Hermione in the middle of it, or Ron or anybody else, but she's much too good of a friend and won't get out of it.  I've tried," he added ruefully, "but you did too good a job of raising her.  She does what's right, not what's easy or what's safe.  I wouldn't mind if you could get her out of this, but I don't think you can.  If it helps, she is the brightest witch of her age, I have that on very good authority."

 

"Who said that?" Mr. Granger asked in a tight voice.

 

Hermione grinned.  "What would you say if I told you he was a werewolf?"

 

All three adults choked at that statement.  "Tell me you're joking, please," her mother begged.

 

Professor McGonagall sighed.  "Remus?" she asked.  Hermione, Harry and Ron all nodded.  "I'm afraid they're not," she confirmed reluctantly.

 

Hermione's parents exchanged horrified looks.  "A werewolf," her father said faintly.  "Harry, Ron, I think we need to speak with Hermione alone.  Thank you for what you said," he told Harry.  "It's nice to know our daughter has such loyal friends."

 

As they left, Ron turned to Mr. Granger.  "She deserves loyalty.  She's one of the most wonderful people I know and I'd do anything for her."  His ears turned red and he walked out abruptly.

 

Behind him, Harry heard Mr. Granger say to his wife, "I think he might be the one I need to worry about getting my daughter into trouble."  Harry sniggered as he heard her mother laugh.  He agreed and wondered how long it would take for Ron to admit it, to himself and to Hermione.

 

Ron and Harry returned to the common room and ate dinner there quietly.  Neither of them seemed able to talk about what had happened that day and, since that was all either of them could think of, they didn't talk.  It wasn't an awkward silence, though, but a comfortable one.

 

They were eating pudding when Hermione walked into the common room.  When both boys started asking her every question on their minds at once, she interrupted them.  "Why don't I tell you what happened in order instead of answering questions all over the place?"  When Ron and Harry agreed, she joined them in front of the fire.

 

"First, thank you both for what you said when you left.  It helped Professor McGonagall and I calm them down by being able to point to what good friends I have.  Then, she asked Professor Dumbledore to join us and he helped."

 

Hermione sighed and gathered her thoughts.  "They're not going to take me out of Hogwarts.  First, it's where I want to be; second, it's the best place for me to learn magic and I need to learn magic to stay safe.  Because of all that, they agreed to leave me in school.  There are conditions to my staying here."  Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances.  "I will be spending all of my school holidays at home, or with my parents.  I won't be allowed to spend more than a night or two visiting friends.  They think that the fact that I didn't spend much time with them the past year let me hide more things from them."

 

"It sounds like you were hiding things from them long before last summer," Harry said.

 

"Yes, but the really bad stuff started last summer.  Then, I have to tell them everything I've been up to the last five years, especially any time I spent in the hospital wing and any time I was in danger.  After our first year, I asked them not to open any of the notices the school sends home; I'd check them out when I got home.  I told them that a lot of Wizarding things wouldn't make sense to them, so I'd go through the notices and give them what they needed to know.  I thought that way they wouldn't worry about me."  Hermione looked terribly guilty.  "In one sense, it worked.  Since they didn't open the notices, they didn't know I was in danger, so they didn't worry about me.  I thought I'd show them Gryffindor Tower and they could entertain themselves here or visit the Burrow.  Instead, they spent the day with Professor McGonagall.  They asked her what type of ingredients we were collecting.  She told them, 'They are harvesting ingredients from the basilisk that attacked and petrified students, including your daughter, in her second year.'  They asked her for explanations and, well, by lunchtime, they had heard the worst of it.  I am in so much trouble."

 

"Are they going to let us stay friends?" Ron asked quietly.

 

Hermione smiled ruefully.  "They have never understood why my two best friends are boys, but they did say you both seemed to be good friends.  They want to spend more time getting to know both of you; they've decided they'd better know who their daughter's friends are. They weren't pleased to discover how complicated having Harry come visit was going to be.  When Professor Dumbledore told them that you wouldn't be allowed to visit unless at least one member of the Order came along, and preferably two or more, Dad asked if he were being visited by a member of the royal family.  He never did get a straight answer," Hermione said.

 

 "I scarcely think Harry's royalty," Ron sniggered.  "At least having me visit won't be difficult.  Is everything going to be all right for you?" he asked, looking worriedly at her.

 

"I'll be fine," she answered.  "But I'd like to talk about something else for a while; it's going to be a long time before they trust me again and I hate it."

 

Ron gave Harry a look.  Harry knew Ron thought he should tell Hermione the prophecy.  Under normal conditions, he would have, but he wasn't sure if it was a good time.  He knew it would upset her.  "Are you up to another horrible piece of information?"  he finally asked her.

 

After Hermione nodded at him, Harry told her, "I told Ron this when he was here last week, but it isn't something I can put in a letter."  Then, he took a deep breath and repeated the prophecy.  When he finished, the three of them sat there in silence for a bit, tears running down Hermione's cheeks.

 

While they sat there, Professor McGonagall brought Mr. and Mrs. Granger into the common room.  "This is the Gryffindor common room, where the students of my house spend much of their study and free time.  And, as I suspected, here is your daughter with her friends."

 

"It's time to go, dear," Mrs. Granger told Hermione.  "Are you ready?"

 

"One minute, Mum," Hermione answered.  "Harry, may I speak to you for a moment?  Privately?"

 

Harry nodded, and she led him to the bottom of the boys' dormitory steps and closed the door.  "I don't think Professor McGonagall would approve of your telling us," Hermione said quickly, "and I don't feel like having another discussion.  I want to look into some things, but I won't be able to remember it word for word.  Can you write it out?"

 

Harry hadn't noticed, but Hermione had brought quill and parchment with her.  He thought about it, but shook his head.  "I don't think that's a good idea, Hermione.  Voldemort really wants that prophecy."

 

Hermione nodded and asked him to say it again.  After Harry had repeated it, she nodded briskly.  "Please, don't write it out," he begged.

 

"I won't," she said.  She looked at Harry intensely, tears in her eyes.  "I'm so sorry, Harry.  You shouldn't have to do this, but I'll do anything I can to help you.  Anything." 

 

When she and Harry returned to the common room, Hermione thanked her parents.  She said good-bye to both boys, hugged them both, and kissed Harry on the cheek.  "I'll see you as soon as I can.  I would like to finish with the basilisk; it was very educational."

 

Ron and Harry were left alone in the common room.  "She took that better than I thought she would," Harry said quietly.

 

"She didn't want to upset her parents," Ron decided.  He hesitated before asking with a large gulp of air, "What did she want to talk to you about?"

 

"She wanted me to write out the prophecy," Harry said.  "I think she wants to research it; she'll probably buy half of Flourish and Blotts.  I wouldn't let her write it down," he continued.  "It's just too dangerous."

 

Ron nodded.  Without discussing it, they agreed not to talk about anything serious for the rest of the evening, instead playing chess until they were too tired to concentrate any more.

 

Lying in bed that night, Harry tried three of his meditation exercises to clear his mind.  After failing with all of them, he then used a spell Dumbledore had taught him that had the same effect.  He finally fell asleep, still feeling disturbed and restless.

 

He awoke to find himself sitting in a high-backed chair, with a man dressed in Death Eater robes kneeling before him.  The man said, "My Lord, we have been unable to achieve our objectives without causing massive disruption.  However, if we simply gain control of that location, we will have our people back and free to move."

 

After a moment, he heard himself say, "It is fortunate you were able to find an alternative.  If it succeeds, you will be rewarded.  In the meantime, you will be punished."  He saw his hand, with long, spidery fingers, come out of his robes, holding a wand, and heard himself say, _"Crucio"_.

 

The man before him screamed and writhed in agony as Harry felt his scar burn, feeling the all-too-familiar pain of the Cruciatus Curse.  He sat up screaming.

 

Ron sat up at Harry's screams.  "What is it?" he asked, rushing to Harry's bed and tearing open the curtains.  "Is somebody being hurt?"

 

The pain ebbing slowly, Harry was able to gasp out, "One of his Death Eaters.  Some plan of his didn't work, but they think they've got an alternative.  Damn!" he complained.  "I cleared my mind before I went to sleep and it still got through!"

 

"Hang on a moment," Ron said and left the dorm.  When he came back a moment later, he had a wet flannel that Harry found, when he put it on his head, was very cold.

 

"Thanks for that, mate," Harry said.  After the pain decreased to a low throb, he asked Ron if he could have some parchment and a quill.  When Ron gave him the items, he wrote down everything he could remember about the dream.  "I'll give this to Dumbledore in the morning," he told Ron.  "Maybe he can figure out why this one got through."

 

"I hate to say it," Ron said, "but maybe you not being here, in this world, weakened the connection a bit.  You've been back long enough that it's back up to strength."

 

Harry stared at Ron wide-eyed.  It was such an obvious conclusion, but it never would have occurred to him.  He added the theory to the parchment and lay back down.  "Thanks, Ron.  I'm going to try to go back to sleep."

 

"I'm right here if you need me," Ron said.

 

Harry cleared his head again and fell asleep.  His dreams were of the Chamber, Riddle and Ginny.  Sometimes they played out as they had in real life, but in some of them, Riddle defeated Harry. 

 

When Harry woke up in the morning, he felt as if he hadn't slept at all.

 

 "You look awful," Ron said when Harry got out of bed.  "Didn't you get any sleep?"

 

"Nightmares.  Not Voldemort," Harry added when he saw Ron's shocked expression.  "Or not current anyway.  I dreamed about the Chamber and Riddle.  I must have watched Ginny die at least half a dozen times," he continued.

 

"Why don't we get this note to Dumbledore," Ron said, looking pale and a little sick.

 

Harry agreed, but instead of walking to Dumbledore's office, he asked Hedwig to take the note.  Neither had any appetite for breakfast, but they tried to eat anyway.  Shortly after they'd given up, and Ron was saying he should be heading back home soon, Hedwig returned with another note tied to her leg.  It was from Dumbledore and asked that they both come to his office immediately.  Harry discovered he wasn't at all surprised and Ron didn't seem to be either.

 

When they walked into Dumbledore's office, they found both Dumbledore and Snape waiting for them.  Dumbledore motioned that they should both sit.  Ron and Harry exchanged glances; neither of them had expected Ron to be able to stay.  Dumbledore held up the parchment Harry had owled him earlier.  "Does this include everything that happened during the vision you had of Voldemort last night?"

 

Harry thought a minute.  "Yes, sir, at least everything I can remember."

 

"Did you clear your mind before bed?"

 

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and told him which techniques he had used.  "It was harder than usual last night; I'm not sure why."

 

"If I may, Headmaster?" Snape asked.  When Dumbledore nodded, he turned to Harry, "Had you used any of these techniques before last night?"  After Harry nodded, he continued, "Have they worked in the past?"  He waited for Harry to confirm that, then asked, "Did you feel anything different as you were preparing for sleep last night?"

 

"I felt wrong," Harry told them.  "I was jumpy from the Chamber, and then Hermione's parents, and I was really on edge.  I thought that's why it took me so long to clear my thoughts; I was really upset."

 

"Were you able to clear your emotions before you went to sleep?" 

 

Harry nodded, which made Snape grimace and Dumbledore sigh.  "What does it mean?  Other than more Occlumency lessons."

 

Dumbledore looked grave.  "Although we will certainly continue the lessons, Occlumency may not block the visions.  We will have to find a way of testing it, but it is beginning to appear as if the connection between you and Voldemort is not blocked, or even affected, by Occlumency."

 

"This may explain why you continue to see things the Dark Lord would prefer you not to see," Snape continued.  "He may also be unable to block the connection.  After we confirm this, we will have to see if the connection can be exploited."

 

"But, if we try to make it stronger, he'll be able to see what I do!" Harry shouted.  "I don't want to be his best spy!"

 

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged glances, a silent communication Harry couldn't read passing between them.

 

"What?" Harry demanded.  "You said you wouldn't keep me in the dark any longer!  What aren't you telling me?"  Feeling like he would explode if he didn't do something, he got up and started pacing through the room.  The other three watched him almost literally bounce off the walls and furniture of Dumbledore's office for several minutes.  Eventually, the terrible energy Harry felt started to fade and he sat down. 

 

Snape checked the clock.  "Headmaster, as I told you earlier, the Dark Lord's meeting was scheduled to start at nine and last about half an hour.  The most difficult part of it was the last item, the strategy session of which I spoke earlier.  It is now nine-forty and Mr. Potter has spent just under fifteen minutes behaving as I suspect the Dark Lord has been while being told all the reasons he cannot do what he wishes."

 

"I heard that last night!" Harry shouted.  "I told you that in the note."

 

"Yes, but today's meeting was to discuss all of the details, which you did not hear," Dumbledore said.  "Your reactions also demonstrate another possible consequence of the connection between the two of you which none of us had recognized.  Unfortunately," he said, his eyes twinkling merrily, "it appears that it is difficult to distinguish between the emotions of extremely powerful Dark wizards and teenage boys."

 

"A valuable object lesson for those who wish to gain great power," Snape answered dryly.

 

Harry and Ron looked at each other wide-eyed.  Had Snape just made a joke?  And had Dumbledore set it up?  "Er, do you mean when Harry gets so angry, it's Voldemort?" Ron asked, utterly shocked by the possibility.

 

"We will need to test this theory further," Dumbledore told them.  "I do not suspect it is completely true; however, at times, especially when Harry is already angry, Voldemort's anger seems to increase it."

 

Harry sat, stunned.  He knew he was sometimes able to sense Voldemort's emotions, when they were different than his own.  Could he also be feeling them when they were the same and just not realizing it?  He thought over the last year, since he had started to notice it.  Then he started to think about earlier, when he'd become so enraged for reasons that just didn't warrant the anger he felt.  He decided that it was possible.  "Is it more important to test the theory, or to stop him from affecting me?"

 

Snape sneered.  "It is unlikely you will be able to learn to control your emotions before the theory can be tested, published and debated in academic circles."

 

Before Ron could stop sputtering and start yelling, Dumbledore gave Snape a look.  "Please, Severus, I don't think publishing your conclusions entirely . . . safe."  He turned back to Harry.  "It will take a while for you learn to calm your emotions, Harry; now that you're aware of the possibility, you may be able to test it yourself."  He shook his head.

 

Dumbledore nodded and dismissed them.  Before Ron and Harry were able to leave, Snape stopped them.  "We will not be able to continue with our task today, but I would like to continue with it tomorrow.  Will there be any problems in that?"  Harry and Ron agreed to meet Snape in front of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom at nine the next morning and made their escape.

 

They decided to check with Ron's parents and the twins to see if he could spend the next two days at the castle.  Professor McGonagall allowed Ron to use her Floo and he was able to get permission to stay.  Harry discovered, as they walked back to the common room, that he didn't want to talk, but he also didn't want to be alone.  When Ron asked what he wanted to do, Harry suggested chess.

 

"Don't you want to do something different?" Ron asked.  "We have the whole school to ourselves, we can do all kinds of things, explore everywhere without getting into trouble, and you want to play chess?"

 

"I didn't sleep well, I feel weird, I want to snap someone's head off, I don't want to think or talk or anything."

 

Ron looked startled.  "Fine with me.  If you're going to play chess without thinking about it, I'll definitely win."

 

The two of them played until lunch.  Afterward, they continued until Ron had beaten Harry thirteen times.  "Harry, I love beating you at chess, but I can't play any more.  Are you up to exploring the castle or doing something else?  Please."

 

Harry got up and started pacing around the common room.  "Something's wrong and I can't figure out . . ."  He stopped, almost able to see something.  He had a sudden thought.  "Ron, please don't say anything for half an hour.  If nothing happens, we'll explore the dungeons.  Deal?"

 

Ron nodded, looking puzzled.  Harry handed him his second Occlumency book and showed him the exercise he was going to try.  He started the exercise, which was not supposed to clear his mind but open it.  It was one he hadn't tried before and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. 

 

At first, nothing happened; Harry sat on the floor of the common room with his eyes closed, whispering a chant under his breath.  He was sure Ron thought he was completely daft.  As far as that went, he thought he was completely daft. 

 

All of a sudden, the common room was gone; he was in Voldemort's head.  He was sitting at a desk with a set of blueprints labeled Azkaban before him, making notes on a roll of parchment next to it.  Harry felt his blood run cold, what he was seeing were not plans for a breakout, but plans to use the prison as a headquarters.  He looked as closely at the plans as he could.  There was something written on the roll he couldn't quite see.  He looked as closely as he could.  When he tried to reach out to move the scroll, he shocked himself out of Voldemort's mind and back to the common room.

 

Harry found himself flat on his back, the back of his head pounding in time to his heartbeat, his throat raw and sore from screaming.  Ron was leaning over him, looking like he couldn't decide if he should stay or run and get help.  Harry closed his mouth and tried to sit up.

 

"What happened?" Ron asked, looking pale and frightened while he helped Harry sit up and get onto the couch.  Harry started to explain what he'd done and seen but the world went black.

 

When Harry opened his eyes again, he found himself looking up at Ron, Dumbledore and Snape.  He tried to sit up, but Dumbledore put stopped him.  "Harry, Don't try to sit up yet.  First, we need to understand what happened to you.  Where did you get this book?"  Dumbledore was holding up the book from which Harry had got the exercise he'd used. 

 

"I got it from Professor Snape in the other universe.  I'd mentioned needing to learn Occlumency so he gave me some books."

 

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a startled look.  "Ron showed us which exercise you used, but we don't know why you chose that one or what happened." 

 

"I chose that one because it said that it allows you to determine the source of a mental attack; I thought that might be helpful; I hadn't felt right all day and thought it might be Voldemort.  I'm still not sure I wasn't right, that it was Voldemort who was making me feel funny . . ."

 

"So you thought you'd try an unknown mental exercise whose described purpose is to OPEN YOUR MIND.  Are you deliberately trying to make it easier for Voldemort?" Snape was red-faced and almost seemed to be having a seizure from pure rage.

 

"It worked," Harry shouted back.  "I don't think he knew I was there.  I saw plans for using Azkaban as a headquarters.  He had a list dividing prisoners into those he's going to release, those he's going to try to use and those he's going to kill.  If you give me some parchment, I'll write down all the names I remember."  Harry glared at Snape.  "There was another list.  I was able to turn the page, but I couldn't see what names were there.  It was a list of Death Eaters he doesn't trust."

 

There was complete silence for several minutes.  No one seemed to know what to say.  It was finally Dumbledore who broke the silence.  "You must understand, Harry.  Both Professor Snape and I have studied Occlumency and Legilimency for years.  Neither of us have ever seen this book or heard of the exercise you used.  We are understandably concerned about the potential damage you may have done to yourself.  Since it left you unconscious, I believe our concerns are justified."

 

"I was knocked out," Harry corrected Dumbledore, "because I was startled when I was able to move his hand, jerked back and wound up hitting my head on the hearth.  The dangerous part of that exercise is doing it next to a fireplace."

 

"Until we know more about this, I want you to promise you won't try it again," Dumbledore said sternly.

 

Harry took a deep breath.  What he was about to do was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he wasn't going to be manipulated any more.  "I'm not going to promise any such thing," he said.  "I'd like to know what the Order knows about Azkaban and what it knows about the Death Eaters contacts with Fudge.  That's what they were talking about in my dream last night, isn't it?  They're trying to do a deal with Fudge, but they can't do it directly, so they're going to take over Azkaban.  As long as they don't obviously release the prisoners, they think there'll be no panic, because everybody accepted the dementors, and people being imprisoned without trials, and everything else!  Is any of the information I've given you today wrong?  Does it contradict your intelligence?  Am I wrong, or are you trying to do such a good job of protecting me that someone else dies?"  Harry discovered that, at some point, he'd stood up from the couch and was backing Dumbledore against the wall.  He was shaking with rage, he couldn't tell whether it was his own or Voldemort's, and he no longer cared.

 

Harry stood there breathing hard.  He didn't know what he was going to do next, and that scared him.  Before he could figure it out, Ron grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

 

Snape's gaze was ice cold, not that Harry cared.  "Since you so clearly do not care if the Dark Lord takes over your mind, I think the Headmaster and I should leave.  Neither of us needs this kind of insult."  With that, he swept out of the common room.

 

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly.  "I know I have failed you but I won't stop doing what is within my power to protect you.  Your information is still too recent for us to be able to confirm or deny it.  Harry, please be careful.  I . . ."

 

Harry didn't let him finish.  "I'm not trying to be reckless, but I don't want to be protected at anyone else's expense.  Ever."  Looking at Dumbledore, who looked not just old but ancient, he sighed.  "I'll look more carefully into that exercise and the book as a whole.  But if I can get more information, I have to.  I may have got Sirius killed, but I did save Ron's dad."

 

Dumbledore seemed unable to say anything else.  He quietly shook his head and left.

 

Ron was staring at Harry wide-eyed.  "I can't believe you talked to Dumbledore that way."  After a minute, he continued hesitantly, "What if he's right?  What if there's something wrong with that book?"

 

Harry tried to think of a way of convincing Ron he was right when he realized he had a very good way of doing so.  "I'll be right back," he said.  After discovering that racing up the stairs left his head spinning, he walked carefully up them.  He brought the mirror back down with him.  "We can ask the other Sirius about it," he told Ron.

 

"You can talk with the other universe?"  Ron asked.  "Wicked.  Anybody, or just Sirius?"

 

"I haven't asked to speak with anyone but Sirius," Harry said.  He called Sirius's name into the mirror. 

 

In about a minute, Sirius's face appeared in it.  "Harry, how are you doing?"  It only took a minute to explain about the book, the exercise and what he had seen.  After thinking about it a moment, Sirius asked, "Which book?"

 

"_Occlumency to Legilimency:  An Auror's Guide_," Harry told him.  "I haven't worked my way through all of the theory, but the exercises section is easy to read and understand."

 

Sirius's face cleared.  "Good."  When Harry looked puzzled at him, he continued, "I've used that book and I know it.  Which exercise?"

 

"It was the _Patesco Animus_ exercise," Harry said.  "I chose it because it says it allows you to connect with another person's mind.  I decided since I seem to keep seeing through his eyes in my dreams, I'd try to see things while I was awake.  It worked even better than I expected it to; I wasn't only able to see through his eyes, I actually moved his hand.  That's when the spell broke, though."

 

Sirius was quiet for several minutes, clearly thinking.  He finally spoke.  "That exercise is supposed to open a mental connection between two people so they can work together better.  You need to be very careful with that spell; if he had realized what you were doing, he could have opened a parallel connection to you.  If you want to continue down that path, I'll help you find something a little safer, more one-way.  The book is legitimate, but I will ask you not to try any more of the exercises until you're sure what they do.  OK?"  Harry agreed and they broke the connection.

 

Harry's uneasy agitation was gone, so the two boys decided to go exploring after supper.  They didn't find anything new or secret; the Marauder's Map was proving to be very extensive.  It was very late when they returned to the common room on their way to bed. 


	4. Summer's End

They met Snape the next morning in front of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  Hermione was already there.  She looked pale and tired, but smiled at the boys when she saw them.

 

He led them into the bathroom and back to the entrance of the Chamber without speaking.  Harry noticed that neither Ron nor Hermione seemed interested in talking; the journey was silent.  When they got there, Snape whirled around to face them.  "We will need to concentrate on what we are doing in here today.  The most dangerous part of the collection is finished; however, what is left can still be harmful if you are not careful.  Don your protective gear now and don't take it off for any reason."

 

They ate lunch quietly outside the Chamber after spending the morning disassembling the skeleton and collecting the internal organs.  They had found out that, although not as poisonous as its venom, a basilisk's blood is also painful to touch.  After lunch, they continued with their task, finally finishing in the late afternoon.  They helped Snape carry everything back to his office but, when Harry went to leave with the others, Snape asked him to stay back.  Ron and Hermione both said their good-byes and left.

 

Snape sat down at his desk, looking at Harry as if he were an interesting but dangerous item.  "Mr. Potter," he finally said.  "There is no record of that book anywhere in this universe.  If it is from the other universe you visited last month, we cannot identify anything about it."

 

Harry thought.  He was afraid if he let Snape and Dumbledore have the book, he wouldn't get it back.  On the other hand, they would continue to worry and focus on the book; they all had better things to focus on.  He finally sighed.  "I don't mind you looking at the book, but I want it back.  It's the best of the three books I have now for explaining how to do the initial steps of both Occlumency and Legilimency.  I, er, have a way of talking to the Sirius of that universe; he has the same book and has used it as an Auror.  It isn't dangerous, even if using it may be."  Harry held his breath to see how Snape would react.

 

"You can communicate with the other universe?" Snape looked shocked.

 

"Yes, at least to Sirius," Harry said.

 

"Not letters or other documents?"

 

"No, at least it's not set up that way.  Why?"

 

"My," Snape trailed off, a very intense look on his face.  "The Severus Snape of that universe is a researcher of some renown, correct?"  When Harry nodded, Snape continued, "Their world is ahead of us in some ways, behind in others.  Collaboration between the two would benefit both.  Can you see where I'm going with this?"

 

Yes, it was pretty obvious what Snape had in mind.  Thinking about it, Harry couldn't really disagree with the idea.  "Yes, I do.  The only problem is that it would involve reading and transcribing . . ."

 

"Or adjusting the current line of communication," Snape interrupted.  "Would you be willing to ask the question?  To allow documents to be passed back and forth."

 

Harry decided his life had finally gone totally mad.  "Why don't you come with me?  If you promise to be nice to that Sirius, I'll let you sit there while I ask him.  I'll even let you discuss ways and means.  If you promise."  The feeling that he had the ability to deny something to the potions master was heady.

 

Snape nodded absently, collecting several more rolls and a stack of books.  When he found himself unable to hold them all, he thrust the overflow at Harry, who took them bemusedly.  They walked up to Gryffindor Tower.  Once back in the common room, Harry dumped his armful on one of the tables and picked up the mirror.  He called for Sirius and waited.

 

Tonight, it took almost ten minutes and several calls before Sirius's face showed in the mirror.  He was sporting a black eye and looked rather bedraggled.  "What happened to you?" Harry said, the Sirius's appearance making him momentarily forget why he had contacted him.

 

"We had to go after a group of the Knights of Walpurgis," Sirius answered breezily.  "They were causing trouble, tormenting Muggles and all, and we had to take them into custody.  What's up?"

 

"I told Professor Snape about our communication link," Harry told him.  "He wants to know if it's possible to change it so that documents can be sent through.  I don't want to lose the link in the process, though; it's been really helpful."

 

Sirius grinned.  "You should have heard Sniv, er, Severus rage that I hadn't discussed the mirrors with anyone here before you left.  He had an idea, but we'll need your help to activate the change."

 

Harry nodded.  "It won't interfere, will it?"

 

"It won't," Sirius confirmed.  "All you have to do is leave the connection open and have a stack of parchment next to your mirror.  I'll cast a spell on mine which should flow to yours."  Harry sat, on edge, waiting for Sirius.  He could dimly hear a spell being cast, but couldn't make out the words.  He suddenly realized that Snape had come up behind him and was watching over his shoulder.  "Can you see and hear me?" Sirius asked some time later.

 

Harry grinned.  "Loud and clear," he said.

 

"Step back, and we'll see if we can send a document through the connection."  Harry did so and the top sheet of the stack of parchment he had placed next to the mirror quickly filled up with writing.

 

"It worked!" he shouted.  Opening the scroll, he read, "Never say never."  "Because never is a very long time," he finished the quotation out loud.  "This is wicked!"

 

Snape leaned over Harry's shoulder.  "Black, how does it work the other way?"  There was none of the contempt and derision Harry was used to hearing when Snape talked to Sirius.  His voice wasn't friendly but it wasn't nasty either.

 

"You place whatever you want to send on top of the mirror, tap it and say Transport.  We didn't see any reason to make it complicated," Sirius added.

 

Snape looked over at his stack of parchment rolls and books.  Harry could see what the man wanted, and realized he wouldn't ask for it.  "Sir, why don't you get your things in order and send them over through the evening.  Sirius," he said through the mirror, "for this, the mirror doesn't have to be attended, does it?"

 

"No, which is just as well, I think," Sirius answered.  "It looks to me like some things, and people, are very much the same between universes.  Do your worst, Severus, but I'm going to bed.  Good night, Harry, and pleasant dreams."

 

"You, too," Harry grinned.  "Good night, Professor.  You will leave the mirror where it is, won't you?"

 

"Yes, yes," Snape answered distractedly.  "I should start with the Sleeping Draught he sent, it's a very interesting formulation . . ." Harry climbed the stairs to his dorm and bed, leaving Snape muttering to himself.

 

When Harry walked into the common room the next morning, Snape had left.  There were two notes lying on the table next to the mirror.  The first one was from McGonagall, reminding him of their appointment later that morning.  The other was one of the more surprising letters he had ever read.

 

_Mr. Potter,_ it read.

 

_I must thank you for the opportunity to work with competent researchers, even if that collaboration cannot be face-to-face.  I will be asking your indulgence in the future to send additional documents to them and to deliver their findings to me._

_I took the book from which you obtained the exercise you used yesterday.  I wish to thoroughly review all information in it.  I should be able to return it to you no later than tomorrow morning._

_While reviewing this book, it occurred to me that we are working with incomplete information.  Make a list of every time you have been aware of the Dark Lord's activities that you can remember, every time in which your mood has been affected by his and the physical sensations, including pain, you have experienced. I will be discussing this paper with Professor Dumbledore; we both believe the connection between the Dark Lord and yourself may be affected by both Occlumency and Legilimency in ways we do not yet understand._

_Finally, it has been brought to my attention that the connection, when activated, causes you some physical discomfort.  Make another list of all occasions in which the connection became active and the physical reactions you experienced.  Included in this list should be all examples that occurred while you were asleep and any relation to surrounding dreams.  _

_I believe the other universe's mongrel wishes to speak with you when you awaken._

S. Snape__

 

Harry stared at the letter in disbelief.  Snape had thanked him?  It even appeared the thanks were both genuine and sincere.  Mind-boggling.  Harry wondered what researches Snape would be pursuing, but decided he didn't much care.  Snape appeared to have decided that the book wasn't dangerous; as long as he got it back, Harry decided not to complain.

 

Two more papers to write!  And that was in addition to the one he was writing on his experience in the other universe, which he still hadn't finished.  At least he wouldn't be graded on them, Harry thought in relief, but Snape wanted a lot of information.  After thinking about it for a moment, he decided he could enjoy the writing and vent all of the anger he had built up in them.  It didn't give a specific time to have them finished; he could wait until it was convenient.  And he decided that pain so excruciating that you had to vomit would be considered "some physical discomfort". 

 

With those thoughts whirling around in his head, he activated the mirror.  Sirius's head came into view almost immediately; he looked a lot better today.  The black eye was gone and it looked like he'd had a good night's sleep.

 

"Good morning, Sirius," he said.  "You look better today."

 

"Amazing what some sleep can do for a bloke.  Mind you, Snivellus didn't want to leave me alone, but the growls finally got loud enough to send him off."

 

"Why didn't Snape want to leave you alone?  And how could he get to you?"

 

Sirius chuckled.  "Your Snape left me alone quite nicely.  Sent a ton of stuff through, but I didn't have to sit there while he did.  No, it was mine who was causing the problems.  He wanted me to extend the mirror to allow objects to be sent through."  When Harry looked interested, Sirius shook his head.  "I think we've reached the limits of the mirrors.  Anything more is just too disruptive.  It's going on a list of research subjects, but it's low down on the priority list."

 

"You have a list of research subjects about alternate universes?" Harry asked, fascinated.  He thought he'd like to see that list.

 

"Apparently, that's been in existence for a while.  When Lily's supervisor got back from holiday, he almost cried when he found out we'd had a counterpart of someone here from another universe, and you'd left before he could, er, interview you.  Lily and Snape have been put on alternate universe studies nearly full-time now.

 

"No, the list I'm talking about is the one pertaining to you specifically."  Sirius stopped and looked like he was gathering himself up to say something awful.  "You go through your life thinking that things aren't terrible but aren't so great either.  Then, some kid, who looks like a boy you know and love, tells you that if one thing had changed, your life and the lives of those you love would have been hellish."  Sirius's eyes were very far away now.  "I would have spent twelve years of my life, twelve years in which I've had a lot of fun by the way, in the worst place I know of, reliving my worst memories, losing my good memories, losing my sanity I think.  Of the four friends I'm closest to from my childhood, two would be dead, one a traitor and one would have had to live alone and close to the edge.  My godson, who is the most important person in my life, would have grown up an orphan, unloved and with a destiny hanging over his head I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."

 

Sirius sighed.  "It's hitting all of us here this way.  We're feeling incredibly lucky that our Tom Riddle died while experimenting.  Turns out no one's really certain what killed him; he didn't keep any notes and the condition of his body didn't give any clues.  So, our Tom Riddle had a moment of carelessness, or yours had a moment of clarity.  Your life is shite and ours looks like paradise to you.  It's not official, but we are going to give you whatever help we can.  Don't be surprised when we come up with ideas; we're working on it.  Incidentally, our Harry is too.  He's never wanted for anything, had everything he's ever wanted handed to him on a platter, and he's never really appreciated it.  Seeing what kind of person you are, with how little you have, was a rather loud wake-up call; he's actually working on studies this summer."  Sirius suddenly grinned.  "You wouldn't believe how thrilled Lily is; she's been trying to get him to take school seriously for years."

 

The depth of emotion Harry heard in Sirius's voice made him choke up.  There was no way he'd ever be able to thank these people just for the understanding that things were hard, much less all of the help they were trying to give him.  Instead, he said lightly, "He can't take school seriously; you're at home."

 

Sirius blinked for a moment, and then roared in laughter.  "And to top it all off, you have an appropriately warped sense of humor.  Let's leave the humor aside for a minute," Sirius continued, his eyes sparkling.  "Your Snape is supposed to ask you to write out everything you can think of both about your connection to Riddle and the Occlumency lessons.  Don't put it off, do it.  That way it's very clear to both Snape and Dumbledore that you were never given the chance to learn Occlumency last year." 

 

Sirius sobered.  "Harry, no matter how hard you tried, you were never taught even a little of what might have helped keep that monster out of your mind.  Your godfather's death was not your fault."

 

Harry swallowed, hard, and convinced himself that he wasn't going to start crying.  "I wish I could believe that," he finally said quietly.

 

"We're going to keep telling you until you do believe it," Sirius said.  "In the meantime, you do need to learn Occlumency, but we're not sure it will block your connection to Riddle.  It's not the normal mental connection we're used to, so we're not convinced it will help in this case.  The more we know of what you've experienced through the connection, the better we'll be able to analyze it.  So, take it seriously," this brought a brief, rueful grin, "and be thorough."

 

When Harry nodded, Sirius glance over his shoulder.  "And I'm late.  Are you going to be OK?" he asked.  Harry nodded again and Sirius closed the connection.

 

The next few weeks flew by.  Harry continued his Occlumency lessons with Professor Dumbledore; Snape now joined them.  Harry couldn't yet block out either man entirely, but they had to work to use Legilimency on him now.  His lessons with Professor McGonagall were going very well; she was calling in Flitwick and Snape on a regular basis to supplement what she could teach him with their additional expertise.  He was able to spend regular afternoons with Hagrid and Grawp; unfortunately, Hagrid was once again talking about finding Grawp a lady friend.  Harry had no idea how to talk him out of it.

 

The world outside Hogwarts wasn't stopping.  There was little about Voldemort, Death Eater activity or political maneuvering in the _Daily Prophet_.  None of the adults would tell Harry any more of what was going on than "Everybody's staying very quiet." 

 

Harry kept up with his letter writing.  His friends were good about writing, although some were easier to write to than others.  Neville, in particular, was a problem.  Harry had decided to tell him about the prophecy, but he couldn't put it into a letter.  The hole caused by what Harry couldn't say made his letters to Neville stilted and strange.  He finally told Neville that the two of them needed to have a long conversation once they returned to school.  He then had to reassure Neville that they were still friends.  Harry found himself bemused; after all Neville had done for him in June, how could he think of the other boy as anything other than a friend?

 

Hermione's letters were filled with the things she and her parents were doing.  They were making up for several holidays in which they hadn't seen her by doing a lot of "family things".  She, in turn, was telling them all of the things she'd been hiding for the last five years.  She had also started researching the prophecy; although she described it differently.

 

Ginny had apparently wormed the prophecy out of Ron after the second trip to the Chamber.  Although Harry welcomed her letters, they were something of a trial.  She spent most of the time scolding him, refusing to let him sink into despair or self-pity.  When she wasn't scolding him though, her letters were delightful, filled with funny stories, silliness and plans for the next school year.

 

Luna's letters, like she herself, were different.  She told him about the stories her father was working on, some of them anyway.  She also asked his opinion of a number of the boys in his year, and most of the boys in Gryffindor.  Once he figured out what she was up to, he gave her his opinions as to which boys he would consider "worthy" of her and which ones he thought likely to understand her.  He found that, even though he had known Luna for just a year, she had become very special and dear to him.  When he told her that they might not have sparks, but she would always occupy a special place in his heart, she wrote back saying she didn't think most people realized in what way he was truly remarkable.  Harry set aside that letter to discuss with Hermione; he knew he'd never be able to figure out what she meant on his own.

 

Harry enjoyed comparing Tonks's letters with Kingsley's.  She and Kingsley frequently wrote about the same incidents, but where Kingsley would emphasize the professional aspect, Tonks would tell him all the funny stories associated with it.  There was one incident, about the capture of a dark wizard who had been capturing and torturing Muggles, which he read about three times:  once in the &lt;i&gt;Daily Prophet&lt;/i&gt; where they sanctimoniously talked about how the Ministry was protecting the Wizarding world, once from Kingsley where he talked about how careful they had had to be to catch the wizard without hurting anyone else or letting the Muggles find out, and once from Tonks where she talked about how, after they got through seven layers of wards where he was hiding, he'd left marbles all over the place so the Aurors were sliding and rolling everywhere.  Tonks's version was the funniest, but Harry still felt unsettled that no one understood why the wizard was doing what he was doing; he wasn't associated with Voldemort or the Death Eaters in any way they could find.

 

Letters from Lupin, which arrived at least every other day, were a special treat.  He couldn't write about what he was doing so he would write his letters as if he were at one moment in the past.  Harry read the one in which Lupin described the night he was born so many times that he had to stop folding it so it wouldn't fall apart.

 

It was the letters from Gideon Croaker, from the Department of Mysteries, that Harry found the most fascinating.  Gideon, as he had asked Harry to address him, seemed to know that something strange had happened to him the previous month but he never asked directly about it.  He also couldn't discuss precisely what he, or any of his colleagues, did, so he discussed current events and the theories of magic.  Harry wasn't sure which he preferred:  he liked having the perspective on current events from an intelligent adult who wasn't a member of the Order, at least as far as he knew, but he found the theoretical items extremely interesting.  For the first time, he found himself visiting the library without needing something specific.  When McGonagall found out what he was doing, she started pointing him towards books that would help him understand the new concepts he was learning.  When he teased Gideon that he could feel his brain expanding, the man's response was a bland, "It won't hurt you."

 

Ron was able to come and visit from every Saturday evening, after the shop closed, to late Sunday evening.  The two boys flew over all the grounds, played chess, and explored the castle.  Harry found he felt better just being in Ron's presence; it didn't seem to matter what they did.

 

On the Wednesday morning a week before school began, Lupin came to visit Harry.  They spent the day by the lake talking and enjoying the sunny summer day.  They discussed what Harry had been studying, the progress he had made and what he would be doing once school started.  Late that afternoon, after they had returned to Gryffindor Tower, Lupin asked for his school supply list.  "Molly is picking up Ron and Ginny's things; she can get your things at the same time."

 

Harry scowled.  "I'd been planning on going myself," he said.  "I don't mind going with someone, but there's some things I wanted to check on."

 

Lupin sighed.  "I'm sorry, Harry.  I know your summer's not been much fun, but it's too dangerous for you to be outside wards.  We've had warnings that the Death Eaters are looking for a chance to get their hands on you.  You can write up a list for Molly; she'll be glad to get anything you need."

 

Harry hadn't minded being kept at Hogwarts.  It was better than the Dursleys and staying at the Burrow would have been dangerous for the Weasleys.  Because he was content to stay at the school, he hadn't thought about what would happen when the summer was over.  "I'm not going to be able to go to Hogsmeade this year, am I?" he asked miserably.

 

Lupin shook his head.  "If there's a special reason, or person," he added, smiling, "we can discuss it.  Otherwise, it's best if you don't.  It's just not safe."  At Harry's expression, he winced and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.  "I know this is no fun."

 

Harry pushed the hand off his shoulder and moved away.  "Yeah, right.  I know.  I am going to be able to go to King's Cross to take the train to school, right?"  At Lupin's grimace, Harry asked, already knowing the answer, "I'm not going to be able to take the train to school this year."

 

"It's a known time and location," Lupin answered.  "Not only would it put you in danger, it would put the rest of the students in danger as well.  It's better for you, and everyone else, if you just stay here."

 

Harry glared at Lupin, but decided to act as mature as possible.  He went up to his dorm room to retrieve the list and gave it to Lupin.  "There you go.  I reckon I'll see you later." 

 

"I thought we could get some supper and talk on," Lupin said tentatively.

 

"I don't feel like company," Harry said as blandly as possible.  He waited until Lupin had gone, giving Harry a worried look as he left.  Then, he went back up to his dorm room and started collecting supplies.  He left a note that he would be in the castle but might not return to the Tower that night and left.

 

He was glad to see that Myrtle wasn't in her bathroom when he got there; dealing with her was the last thing he wanted to do.  He headed straight for the Chamber, closing the doors behind him.  Once there, he used the blankets he'd brought down with him to make himself comfortable.  Then, he pulled out the mirror and looked at it.

 

He'd been planning on calling Sirius and telling him what had happened.  Looking at the mirror now, though, reminded him of the other mirror sitting in the bottom of his trunk.  Harry found himself remembering Sirius, _his_ Sirius.  His stomach twisted as he thought about all the things he should have done.  He finally put the mirror back and sat staring unseeing at the Chamber.

 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because his watch had jumped forward several hours.  Since he was getting hungry, he decided to return to his common room and get some breakfast.  As he went to leave Myrtle's bathroom, he found a note attached to the inside of the door, with _Potter_ written on it in Snape's handwriting.  Opening it, he read, "You are to report to the library as soon as you receive this."  Looking at the note unhappily, he walked up to the library.

 

As he was about to walk in, Lupin walked out.  "Good morning, Harry.  How are you doing this morning?"

 

Harry shrugged.  "I'm fine," he said.

 

"Mm, yes," Lupin said mildly.  "How do you feel about taking a walk and talking some things over?"

 

Harry looked at him.  He reckoned Lupin wanted to calm him down from yesterday.  The problem was that Harry didn't want to be soothed; since he couldn't do what his friends and classmates could, he didn't want to discuss it.  After thinking it over, he asked coolly, "Has anything changed from yesterday?"

 

"No, but it's obvious you have some things you need to say," Lupin answered calmly.  "You're not being punished, Harry.  I'm sure it feels that way, but that's not the intent."

 

Harry thought for a moment but finally shook his head, "I hate this.  There were some things I was planning to do, but they're not worth putting anyone else at risk for."  When Lupin looked like he was going to say something, Harry said hastily, "Is there anything you have to tell me?  Because if not, I have things I need to be doing."

 

Lupin shook his head.  "If there's anything we can do, just let us know."

 

"Nothing," Harry said bitterly as he turned to go back to the Tower.  Once there, he stared out the window for a long time.  The clear sunny day made it so tempting to hop on his broom and never return. 

 

Half an hour after his Occlumency lesson was supposed to start, an owl flew through the window with a note attached to her leg.  It turned out to be from Dumbledore, reminding him of the lesson.  Harry scribbled back a note stating that he would be doing no more lessons until school started, as he'd done all his summer homework.  As the owl flew out the window, Harry got up and walked down to the lake.  It was a warm sunny day, but Harry could see storm clouds in the distance.

 

He had planned on walking back to the common room for his lunch, but he changed his mind when he realized how easy it would be to find him there.  Instead, he stopped at the kitchens and got a couple of sandwiches.  As he headed back to Myrtle's bathroom, he decided that the hard part was convincing the house-elves that he only wanted a couple of sandwiches, not a five course banquet.

 

This time, Myrtle was there.  When she started to talk with him, he glared at her and went back to the Chamber.  Once he got there, he settled down to think.  His stomach woke him up at suppertime.

 

Harry clambered back out of the Chamber.  Snape himself was waiting for him this time, looking resigned.  "Potter, in the future, if you find it necessary to go someplace inaccessible, please do not leave a depressed teenage ghost to guard your back.  I have spent the last three hours listening to Myrtle.  There are more productive ways for me to spend my time.  Now, go to the headmaster's office; he's waiting to talk with you."

 

"Why?  Is he going to yell at me for skiving off Occlumency or for going off where none of you can come 'reason' with me?"

 

Snape smirked at him.  "A little of both, I should think."

 

"He'll have to do it without me," Harry said, pushing his way past Snape and walking back to his common room.  He had walked almost to the stairs when he heard behind him, _"Petrificus Totalis."_  He hadn't been expecting Snape, a teacher, to hex him and hadn't been able to get out a shield fast enough.  As he fell to the floor, he heard _"Mobiluscorpus"_ and felt himself lifted and carried to the Headmaster's office.

 

Once there, he heard Dumbledore ask sharply, "What happened, Severus?"

 

"Since I was required to wait in a bathroom because Potter was having a temper tantrum," Snape said coldly, "I will make certain he goes where he is told."

 

"I think you've done more than enough, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice tired.  "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."  After Harry heard the door close, Dumbledore lowered him to the floor and cast _"Finite Incantatum."_

 

Harry stood up angrily.  "I'd leave, but you'd just send him after me until I stayed like a good little boy, so I'll just sit until you tell me I can go."  He sat down, glaring at Dumbledore.

 

"I apologize," Dumbledore said.  There was no twinkle in his eyes; he looked sad and old.  "I had no idea that Professor Snape would go to such lengths to bring you here.  We're all quite worried about you."

 

"I'm fine," Harry insisted.  "I don't want to hear why it's dangerous for me to do what I want over and over again.  I understood it the first time, I haven't said another word about it and I don't understand why everyone doesn't just leave me alone!"  It was taking every bit of willpower Harry had not to shout, but he was determined to sound as mature as possible.

 

"Remus informed me of how disappointed you were and both of us agreed you needed to be assured this is not a punishment."

 

"Of course it is," Harry said flatly.  Before Dumbledore could say anything further, he continued, "It's my punishment for living while those around me died.  Now, I came up to have my supper, may I please go?  Without being attacked again?" 

 

"Why don't I order us some supper?" asked Dumbledore, walking towards the Floo.

 

Harry sighed.  "Never mind, I've lost my appetite.  Say what you need to."

 

Dumbledore looked taken aback.  It looked as if he started to say something several times, but stopped before he finished the sentence.  "Harry, I'm just trying to do what's best for you.  I know it's not what you would like, but it's the best I can do."  When Harry didn't respond, he finally sighed.  "You may go if you wish, but know my door is always open to you."

 

Harry went to the door, but turned around at the threshold.  "Please stop telling me you're doing what's best for me.  You're doing what's best for everyone; I'm just a pawn in this game."  Before the Headmaster could respond, Harry turned and left.

 

When Harry woke up the next day, there was a storm outside the castle.  Harry sat in the common room by the fire, unable to get up the energy to do anything.  He ate the meals the house-elves brought him, but he couldn't have said what they were.  The next day started the same, but just before lunch, Professor McGonagall came in to the common room.

 

"Potter, the Headmaster needs to speak with you.  Please come with me."  Not giving him a chance to argue, or even think, she led him out through the portrait hole.  When Harry glanced over at her, her face was set and her lips pursed.

 

Two staircases away from their destination, she stopped him.  "I have disagreed with many of Albus's decisions over the years.  We've fought bitterly over many things, including his sending you to live with your relatives."  The pause before the last word told Harry exactly what she thought of them.  "I believe, unfortunately, that I'm now being proved right, but, Harry, he was truly doing what he believed was right for you.  I know you're angry with him, and you have every right to be, but he's human.  He makes mistakes and he has a very hard time seeing what is best for you.  You don't have to agree with him.  In fact, it probably does him a great deal of good to have you fighting him.  But, Harry, please forgive his mistakes.  He cares."

 

Harry couldn't decide which part of that speech was the most surprising.  He thought it might be the fact that she had called him by his first name; Professor McGonagall was as formal as she was strict.  He thought about it for a minute.  "I'll try, but it hurts so much."  He stopped for a minute, fighting back tears.  "I've been trying very hard since I got back to do the right thing.  I reckon I didn't manage it."

 

McGonagall's eyes were very bright and her lips were less thin than usual.  "I'm not so sure about that, Mr. Potter," she said.  "You have certainly reminded us that, in spite of everything that has happened to you, you are still just sixteen."  She took a deep breath and said more briskly, "Now, let's get you to the Headmaster's office, shall we?  I think he has some good news for you for a change."  They finished the trip in silence, but Harry found himself feeling a little better.

 

When they had entered the office, Dumbledore said, "I'm delighted you can join us, Harry." There was a large platter of assorted sandwiches on his desk and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.  "Please sit and have some lunch.  There are several house-elves who will be quite upset if we don't finish off this platter."  Harry and Professor McGonagall sat down and they all served themselves some lunch.

 

 "I have been informed that your Quidditch ban has been officially lifted."  Dumbledore looked at Harry over the tops of his half-moon glasses, eyes serious.  "Please try not to punch any more of the opposing teams' players; next time things will be more difficult to smooth over."  When Harry nodded in agreement, Dumbledore continued.  "I will have a guest for supper tonight who wants to meet you; I believe you've been corresponding with him.  Gideon Croaker?"

 

"Great," Harry said.  "I've wanted to meet him, but it hasn't been possible."

 

"He and I have other things to discuss this afternoon, but he's staying afterward to talk with you.  Also, I thought you might like to meet the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher a little early; he will be here tomorrow morning and I thought you might like to talk with him before the other students get here."

 

Harry agreed that he'd like to meet the new Defence teacher.  They spent the rest of the meal chatting about inconsequentials.  Harry thought it would be some time before he'd be comfortable confiding in the older wizard, but things seemed easier between them.

 

Dinner that night was again in Dumbledore's office.  Croaker turned out to be a short, plump middle-aged wizard with graying hair and rimless glasses who asked Harry to call him Gideon.  He was an amusing dinner companion, with lots of funny stories about things he'd seen in his travels.  After dinner, he asked Harry to take a walk with him around the grounds.

 

"There are many things we can't discuss with those who don't work with us," Gideon said.  "There are some things we can discuss with you, including the three reasons we want you to consider us two years from now.  First, your original defeat of Voldemort; it is not understood and indicates you are a wizard with some unusual abilities.  We, erm, collect wizards with unusual abilities; they come in handy in what we do.  Second, you are a Parselmouth; the first Parselmouth we know of who is not, or does not appear to be, interested in using that skill as a weapon.  We don't understand the ability, but we know it's a useful one.  Third, you managed to take a walk between universes with no more negative effect than a little fatigue.  The ability isn't unique, but it is rare and, erm, interesting."

 

Harry looked at Gideon in surprise.  "The way you're talking, all Unspeakables have unusual abilities.  Am I right about that?"

 

Gideon shook his head.  "Not all.  But we look for and actively try to bring those wizards and witches into our department."  He smiled ruefully.  "We are well aware that those with unusual abilities have unusual problems and, if they become known, problems with the press.  As an Unspeakable, we could keep the press from finding out what you're up to."

 

"That itself makes it very attractive," Harry told him.  "It'd be nice not having every thing I do printed in the press."

 

"You do know how to use it for your own purposes, though," Gideon told him, smiling.  "That interview you gave the &lt;i&gt;Quibbler&lt;/i&gt; was impressive; was that your idea?"

 

"Hermione Granger's," Harry admitted.  "She's a friend of mine.  So, you do research."

 

"Mm, yes, you could say we do research," Gideon admitted.  It was the last admission, or real information, Harry got from him for the rest of the evening.  They continued talking for several hours, but Harry was able to get nothing more from him about the Department of Mysteries.  Even so, as he went to bed that evening, he thought it might not be a bad idea to consider it for after school.

**   
**


	5. Sixth Year Begins

When Harry woke up the next morning, he heard his name being called from the mirror.  He finally walked over and picked it up.  "Morning, Sirius," he answered listlessly.

 

"You look like hell!" Sirius said.  "What's gone wrong?"

 

Harry proceeded to spend the next several minutes telling Sirius about all the restrictions, about how he hated that Hogwarts was beginning to feel like a prison and about how the adults, especially Dumbledore and Snape, were treating him like he'd done something wrong.

 

Sirius sat there for a minute before he answered.  "First, the adults in your world are going to have to cope with the fact that forbidding a teenager from doing those things he dearly wants to be doing, even if it is for the kid's safety, is going to be resented.  You're accepting it, you're following their rules and the next time someone hexes you because you don't want to make nice, either hex them back or get Dumbledore to come down on them.  It doesn't sound to me like he approved of Snape's actions at all."

 

Harry could feel half of the tension draining out of him.  Sirius _understood_.

 

"Secondly, though," Sirius said reluctantly, "from what I know of the situation there, they're right.  If someone wants to hurt you, going to a known location at a known time is a truly bad idea.  The one thing I don't understand is why they couldn't get you to that shop.  That could have been done at any time, with full precautions.  It probably could even have been done off hours."

 

"I didn't tell them what I wanted to do, other than the train," Harry admitted.  "I don't want to put anyone into danger just for fun."

 

Sirius nodded.  "Thought so.  Next time, make up a list of what you want.  You may not get any of it, but a reasonable list they can't grant gives you more bargaining power later.  And they might have been able to set something up safely for the shop and a way to get you clothes that fit."  He thought for a minute.  "From what you've said, other than being the bearer of bad news, Remus wasn't giving you a hard time about your reactions, am I right?"

 

Harry thought about it.  "Yeah.  He gave me the news and tried to talk to me a couple of times, but he left me alone when I asked him to."  He started feeling bad when he realized how he had been treating Lupin.  "I reckon I owe him an apology."

 

"That's between the two of you.  Remember, Remus understands what it's like to live with unfair restrictions; he's been doing it all his life.  He should understand and be sympathetic to what you're feeling and he may be able to help you get those things you want that are possible.  I'd write him a letter.  The other thing about Remus is that he always forgives people treating him badly."

 

"Yeah," Harry agreed.  "It's the rest of us who get mad for him."

 

"You got it," Sirius smiled.  On the final thing, you've pretty much cooped yourself up in the Chamber for the past few days, right?"  When Harry nodded, Sirius shook his head.  "That was probably the worst thing you could do.  When you're feeling like you're imprisoned because of your restrictions, the best thing you can do is to get into the most open place you can.  If you have time today, go out to the pitch and fly or ask Hagrid to take you for a walk to meet that brother of his.  But get into the place you feel the most free.  It isn't a solution, but it'll help."

 

"One more question for you and I'll let you go to do whatever.  This Chamber, is it the Chamber of Secrets?  Where is it?  It was believed to be a myth."  Sirius was leaning forward in fascination.

 

"I can tell you where it is," Harry said, smirking, "but you may have trouble getting there.  You need to speak Parseltongue."

 

"Parseltongue," Sirius repeated, his eyes wide.  "I didn't realise you had that gift, too."

 

"Yeah," Harry said sourly.  "Another legacy from Tom Riddle."

 

Sirius was quiet for several moments, looking utterly stunned.  "You didn't get it from Riddle," he finally said in a very choked voice.  "We're not sure where it came from but it wasn't from Riddle.  Our Harry's a Parselmouth, too.  We've kept it very quiet because no one knows where it came from and it has awful associations.  In fact," he continued, his voice getting a little stronger, "apparently the Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin on that basis."

 

"It did me, too," Harry said.  "I begged it to put me anywhere else.  I'd already met Draco Malfoy and he reminded me too much of Dudley.  Why did it put your Harry in Gryffindor?"

 

"Yes, that spoiled git would turn anyone off anything," Sirius agreed.  "As for why the Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor, he told it that he was a Gryffindor to the core and, if it didn't believe him, either set him a test or prepare for him to fight it.  It announced that he was obviously Godric Gryffindor reborn and he'd better be put in that house."

 

Harry had a good laugh over that story and then told Sirius exactly how to find the Chamber.  Harry also warned Sirius that there was likely to be a basilisk there, a rather large one.  Sirius wrote some notes down, looking startled and apprehensive.  Sirius told him they'd be sending some more documents for Snape through that day and to get out into the fresh air.  Harry decided this sounded like a great idea and spent the rest of the morning out on the Quidditch pitch flying.

 

When Harry came back to the tower for lunch, he found a note asking him to join the new professor in his office after lunch.  He ate quickly and headed to the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, curious to meet this new teacher.

 

Wondering what he would see, Harry knocked on the office door.  He heard a distracted, "Come in!" from within the office and pushed the door open.  Harry had now been in this office for four of its occupants.  The office was already neat, with several large bookcases packed full of books, several certificates stating that Robert Ambrosius Gillespie had various certifications and titles, charts on the walls demonstrating specific curses and their defences and, on a reading stand in the pride of place, a leather-bound book with the title _An Exploration of Defence Against the Unforgivable Curses and Other Dark Curses_ by Robert A. Gillespie.  It actually looked like a Defence Against the Dark Arts office, especially if the professor was the scholarly type.

 

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore said you wanted to see me?" he said.  "I'm Harry Potter."

 

"Of course you are," came the response, as the new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor stood up from behind his desk.  He was tall, with thinning brown hair and glasses.  He smiled at Harry a little distractedly, and held out his hand.  His handshake was dry and firm.  "I did mention to Professor Dumbledore that it would be nice to meet you before the hordes arrive," the man said, "but I wasn't certain he'd heard me.  I'm Professor Robert Gillespie.  Won't you have a seat?"  He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk.  After Harry sat, so did he.  Professor Gillespie removed his glasses, cleaned them thoroughly and put them back on.  "Ah, good.  Moving in is dusty business.  What did you want to see me about?"

 

"Er, I thought you wanted to talk with me," Harry answered, a little nonplussed.

 

"Ah, yes, of course," Gillespie said.  "I understand you ran a study group in my subject last year.  A rather successful one judging by the OWL and NEWT scores.  Do you intend to continue it this year?"

 

"I hadn't made a decision yet," Harry answered carefully.  The DA, after all, had been an illegal study group; he wasn't sure he wanted to admit his plans for it this year.

 

"Oh."  Gillespie looked disappointed.  "I was rather hoping you would do so.  I have found that students with your apparent ability do better putting that ability to good use.  A study group would, er, channel your energies productively while assisting students in need of help.  I had hoped I could recommend those students who need extra help to your group.  Would you consider that?"

 

Harry thought about it.  It wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, but having Gillespie on his side had to be a plus.  "That group is pretty advanced; it might be better to start a second group for those students you think need extra help.  I could probably get members of the DA to help me with the second group."

 

Gillespie smiled.  "I suppose that would work.  What was the last subject you were covering before the group was disbanded last year?"

 

"We had started on conjuring Patronuses," Harry said.  "They're pretty hard; only some of the group could produce them."

 

Gillespie seemed startled.  "Yes, a bit on the advanced side."  He was silent for a moment, but then looked up smiling.  "That should work beautifully, Harry.  If you should ever need help, or a test dummy, let me know.  I must admit, I'm quite curious as to how the group works."

 

Although he was being perfectly polite, something about Professor Gillespie made Harry's skin crawl.  He decided the best way to deal with it was to learn more about his new professor.  "Could you tell me a little about your background, sir?" he asked.

 

It was the right question to ask.  Gillespie's hazel eyes lit up, he pulled off his glasses to clean them again, and then answered, "I was born in England, of course, Oxford.  My mother died when I was quite young and, as my father worked all over the world, I was well travelled before I started school.  I received offers from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.  Because Father was working in France at the time, I began at Beauxbatons.  Later, I transferred to Durmstrang and finished my education there.  Although the Dark Arts aren't taught here, I was thoroughly trained in them; I have found that Defence is better when you understand what you are defending against.  After I finished my secondary education, I travelled a bit on my own, and then took an apprenticeship at the Salem Institute in the United States.  I have taught at all three schools I studied at; this will be my first assignment at a school I have not attended."  His gaze focused on Harry.  "I have heard a great deal about you in the past two years from former colleagues; you are reputed to be quite the remarkable young man."

 

"Professor McGonagall seems to think I'd make a good teacher," Harry said.  "How do you think I should make that decision?"

 

"Your study group is a good start.  Admittedly, everyone is there because they want to be there, which always makes the job easier, but it's a good place to start.  Tutoring is another step," Gillespie continued.

 

"She told me she'd be having me help some of the younger students," Harry offered.

 

"I will, too," Gillespie said.  "You might try paying attention not just to the content of your lessons, but also the style.  What works, what doesn't, that kind of thing."  The man grinned.  "One of the best lessons I ever learned was a negative one:  how not to handle an unruly class.  My Transfiguration professor used to transfigure particularly unruly students and they were always looking for ways to get back at him.  I've tried to find more, erm, subtle punishments."  At Harry's puzzled look, Gillespie told him, "I will be able to continue eating and drinking what's in front of me instead of drinking from a flask."

 

"And no one will think you're taking Polyjuice Potion," Harry muttered.

 

"Quite," Gillespie agreed.  After several more minutes of small talk, Gillespie informed Harry he had a meeting with Dumbledore shortly, and promised to talk with him later.

 

Harry headed back to the Tower and changed into his school robes to wait.  He sat on the windowsill, writing a letter to Lupin and waiting to see the carriages arrive from Hogsmeade Station. 

 

It was hours later when he finally saw the carriages arriving, pulled by the strange, reptilian horses Harry now knew were thestrals.  It was sad, he thought, that Sirius's death wouldn't allow anyone to see them; the only people who saw him die were already able to see them.  He sighed, and walked down to the Great Hall.

 

He was disgusted to find that the first person he saw was Draco Malfoy.  The Slytherin was walking next to Pansy Parkinson, with Crabbe and Goyle walking right behind.  "Scarhead," Malfoy greeted him.  "Think you're too good to come on the train with the rest of us," he taunted.  "Just wait till my father hears about this; he'll be sure to have words with the governors."

 

"I'm sure those words will be heard with the respect they're due," Harry retorted, "coming from Azkaban.  How is he enjoying the accommodations?"

 

"I'm sure you think that's funny," Pansy shot back.  "Taunting someone who's in such great pain."

 

Draco's mouth twisted; he didn't seem to appreciate Pansy's contribution.  "Things are changing, Potter, and I don't think you'll like the changes.  Still," he looked around at the other students now filling the Great Hall, "I don't think that now is the time for that discussion."  He swept off to the Slytherin table, trying to look as if Harry didn't concern him.

 

Harry decided he didn't need to spend any more time worrying about Malfoy.  It didn't appear that much had changed.  Since he could see Ron and Hermione walking into the Hall, along with Ginny and Neville, he walked over to join them.  "Harry," Ginny greeted him.  "We were all disappointed you couldn't join us on the train; did you have a good day?"

 

"Boring," he told them.  "I'm really glad you are all here.  I did get to meet the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

 

"What's he like?" Hermione asked quickly.  She looked a little paler and a little thinner than she had the last time he saw her, and there were now black circles under her eyes.

 

"Seems all right," Harry told her.  "He wants me to keep up the DA, but he's thinking of it as more of a study group.  Are you okay?  You don't look well."

 

"Thanks," Hermione answered wryly.  "It was just tough with my parents; they're still pretty upset."  She then had to fill Neville in on what had happened with her parents over the summer; he looked appropriately concerned.

 

While Hermione was talking to Neville, Harry noticed that Ron didn't look well either.  He was pale and looked very unnerved.  As they sat down, Harry asked him quietly if there was something wrong.

 

"Not as such," Ron answered.  "Do you remember those brains?"

 

"Yeah.  That was scary," Harry said.

 

"Apparently, they left, erm, memories behind," Ron told him quietly.  "I'll be going along like normal and, all of a sudden, I'll be hit with someone else's memory.  Weird, and it's getting stronger and more common as time goes on."

 

Ginny put her hand on her brother's arm.  "One of the memories is of watching someone die."

 

"My wife.  Well, the brain's wife," Ron added.  "She was old and died peacefully in her bed.  I remember thinking I'd be right behind her."  Ron was quiet for a minute, staring off into space.

 

Harry suddenly realized why Ron looked so unnerved.  "And you saw the thestrals, didn't you?" he asked.

 

Ron nodded.  "Weird.  I was really glad Neville was with me; he could tell me they were real."  He was quiet again.

 

Harry wanted to say something that would help, but couldn't think of anything.  He clapped his hand on Ron's shoulder, hoping his friend would feel the support.  Ron looked up and gave him a weak smile.  "It's okay, mate," Ron said.  "Just really weird."

 

The five of them continued talking while the other students filed in.  Luna waved as she walked over to the Ravenclaw table; Harry was able to give her a bright, happy smile.  Once they were all seated, while McGonagall was leading the first years in, Harry's scar felt like it was on fire.  He saw the living room in Riddle's house, a fire in the fireplace.  Nagini was curled up in front of the hearth and he heard himself chanting something quietly.  Harry couldn't make out the words.  He tried Occlumency but it didn't seem to work.  Eventually, he found himself back in his seat with a splitting headache.  Other than those of his friends sitting right next to him, no one else seemed to have noticed what happened.  The first years were into the P's; those already sorted seemed to be pretty evenly distributed.

 

Hermione and Neville were looking closely at his face and Ron had a hand on his arm.  "Are you okay, Harry?" Neville asked quietly. 

 

"Yeah," Harry answered.  "I guess I kept quiet that time?"

 

"What did you see?" Ron asked.  "Anything bad?"

 

"No," Harry told them.  "Just Tommy and his pet snake.  It was actually kind of sweet.  I just wish I knew if I'm not good enough at Occlumency to stop it or if Occlumency just doesn't work on it."

 

"Send a note to Dumbledore," Hermione advised.  By this time, the Sorting was finished and Dumbledore started the Feast.

 

Conversations broke out up and down the table.  People were discussing their summers, the coming school year and the strange quiet coming from the Ministry.  Harry felt drained and was relieved that his friends weren't forcing him to talk.  His appetite returned and he tucked into the food gratefully.

 

When everyone had eaten as much as they could hold, and then some, Dumbledore stood and began his normal start of the year speech:  that the Forbidden Forest was, in fact, forbidden; that the list of forbidden items could be found on Filch's door, and that it now included several of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and his introduction of their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.  Judging from the reactions of the girls around him, Harry gathered that they considered Gillespie attractive.  He hoped that didn't mean the man was another Lockhart.  Thinking about the book he'd written made him wonder.

 

On the way up to the tower, Harry pulled Neville aside.  "There's something I have to tell you."  He then proceeded to tell Neville the prophecy, that it still needed to be kept secret, and that it could have been Neville who fit it. 

 

"I think it's a good thing he came after you first," Neville said, wide-eyed.  "Can you imagine me trying to defeat him?  We'd all be under his power now."

 

"I don't know," Harry argued.  "Maybe he'd be dead and none of us would have to worry about him."

 

"I'm sorry," Neville said, laying his hand on Harry's arm.  The gesture touched Harry and he gave Neville a grateful smile.  They continued up to the tower in a comfortable silence.  When they got to their dorm room, Dean and Seamus were already there.  "You look terrible, Harry," Dean greeted him.  "Didn't you get to rest during the summer?"

 

"It was a busy summer," Harry told them.  Dean and Seamus looked worried at his appearance.  "Don't worry about it," he told them, "I'm fine.  I just have to write a note to Dumbledore."  He scratched out the note and considered.  If he were to go to the Owlery, he would be out after curfew, which he didn't want.  Hedwig had no way of knowing he needed her, though, so asking her to take the note was out.

 

Ron walked in while Harry was still thinking.  "Dumbledore?" he asked, looking at the note in Harry's hand.  When Harry nodded, he walked to the window, pulled out something that looked like a whistle, and blew on it.  There was no sound, but several minutes later, Pig flew into the room.  The tiny owl was so excited that it took the five boys almost half an hour to catch him; once they did, he allowed them to tie the note to his leg.  "Take it to Dumbledore?" Ron told his owl, and who flew off.  Raising the whistle, he said, "Gift from the twins.  It scares me to think what they're planning now.  You need to get into bed, mate, before you fall over."

 

Harry managed to pull his clothes off and his pyjamas on before collapsing on the bed.  He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

 

Harry was awakened the next morning by the normal noise of four boys trying to get ready for the day.  Neville was crooning at his Mimbulus Mimbletonia, Ron was trying to find his shoes and Dean and Seamus were arguing about whether or not the windows should be left open at night.  When Harry sat up, he was briefly greeted with "Good mornings" before everyone went back to what they were doing.  He got himself dressed and his things together for the day. 

 

He managed to make it down to the common room before Hermione did.  Since Ron appeared to be waiting for her, he was able to go to breakfast with them both.

 

Conversation over breakfast was centred on what people thought Voldemort's plans were.  His inaction over the summer was puzzling everyone; some people thought it meant he had decided it was too dangerous for him to take any actions, but more people were unnerved, suspecting that his next actions would be devastating.  Harry, when asked, stated he believed Voldemort had something in motion that did not yet involve public action.  While the conversation continued, Professor McGonagall walked around the Gryffindor table passing out timetables. 

 

Harry looked down at his and smiled.  "Care of Magical Creatures first thing, and double Charms.  That's not so bad."

 

Most of the NEWT classes turned out to be with more than one house.  Care of Magical Creatures was with all four houses; Charms was with the Ravenclaws.  Harry was tense during Care of Magical Creatures, waiting for Malfoy to say or do something to harass Hagrid.  However, Malfoy and his friends were quiet through the class.  They weren't paying particular attention to Hagrid's lesson on runespoors, but they didn't bother him either.

 

Professor Flitwick started the class by reminding them that NEWT classes were a privilege that could be lost.  He then informed them that, although there were certain subjects that would be covered and others that would not be covered, he would consider any topics that particularly interested the class.  He asked them to write down these additional topics they were interested in and pass them in.  Harry wrote down "Mapping and Tracking Charms".  He looked over at Ron's paper to see he'd written "Detection and Protection Charms".

 

After lunch was double Defence Against the Dark Arts with just the Gryffindors.  Everyone was waiting quietly to see what kind of teacher Professor Gillespie would be.  He walked into the room, set a stack of books down on his desk and called the roll.  He then opened a ledger on top of the stack of books.  "From the information I have been given, you have had a rather spotty instruction in this subject.  In addition, you have not been taught the Dark Arts in order to understand what you are learning in Defence.  Headmaster Dumbledore has informed me that this will continue; this is unfortunate, but we will try to overcome this handicap.  This is the class that has the best chance of overcoming this deficiency; your OWL scores were truly remarkable.  I have spoken with Mr. Potter and I hope he can be prevailed upon to continue your study group.  Now, if you will all open your texts to the first chapter, we will begin our discussion of the theory behind Defence."

 

The lesson was an exciting one, but Harry noticed a pattern that disturbed him.  When Gillespie asked a question, everyone usually raised his or her hands, but he wouldn't call on Hermione, Lavender or Dean.  He seemed to prefer calling on Parvati, Ron and Neville.  After class, Harry, Ron and Hermione went to the library to start on their homework.

 

"So, what do you think of him?" Harry asked.

 

Hermione looked down at the table but said nothing.  Ron said nothing for a moment, and took a deep breath.  "He's a good teacher, but I don't like that he believes that pureblood rubbish."

 

"The question is whether he'll grade the Muggleborns in the class fairly," Hermione said quietly.  "I, well I guess it is good practice for later."

 

"You can't believe that!" Harry demanded.

 

"It's horrible!" Ron agreed.

 

"If he treats us fairly," Hermione said, "we can handle the rest.  You two don't understand; you didn't get the letters the rest of us did this summer.  If the worst we have to deal with is not being called on in class, it's liveable."

 

"What kind of letters did you get this summer?" Harry asked.  "We haven't heard anything about it."

 

"I didn't want to worry you," Hermione said, "and they don't write about this kind of thing in the _Daily Prophet_.  I don't know if all the Muggleborns got them, but a lot of us got letters over the summer.  They were, well, they were pretty awful.  And I wasn't going to tell my parents about them,"

 

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry both scolded her.

 

"Calm down," Hermione told them.  "They got their own.  It was, well, they were pretty upset.  Professor Dumbledore spoke with them and calmed them down.  He's told them I'm safe here at Hogwarts.  They've agreed to let me continue here, but I have to stay on the grounds.  No Hogsmeade weekends for me this term."

 

Harry and Ron exchanged looks.  "I don't get Hogsmeade weekends this term, either," Harry told her.

 

They didn't have their first Potions class until Wednesday morning.  Snape swooped in.  "You have all proved you can handle the basics of potions.  If you cannot keep up without my holding your hand, you will be out of this class.  We begin by discussing components, specialized ingredients with specialized uses.  Many of these are too valuable to be used by students such as yourselves; however, you do need to understand them."  He sneered at Harry and Ron as he introduced the lecture, but then ignored them for the rest of the class.  Discussing it afterwards, they agreed that, although it wasn't going to be easy, Potions would probably be easier than previous years.  Due to Snape's strict requirements, the NEWT Potions class was small and contained students from all four houses.

 

Throughout September, things got back to normal.  Classes and homework took up much of their time.  It quickly became obvious that, although it wouldn't be the all-consuming struggle it had been last year, the work was still getting progressively harder.  Ron and Hermione spent a good bit of time on prefect duties.  Most of the time, Ron treated them as he had last year:  doing the absolute minimum.  Every once in a while though, especially when it involved one of the younger kids getting hurt, he would take his duties very seriously indeed.  It turned out that Ginny had also been made a prefect this year.  She handled her duties with a grace, and style, of her own.  Her Bat-Bogey hex was soon talked about throughout the school and no one would dare interrupt her studying after Seamus had to be taken to the hospital wing the first week.  The boils on his face had been bad enough, but there had been others elsewhere that had been truly painful.

 

The new Quidditch captain for Gryffindor, Katie Bell, was thrilled to be told that Harry's Quidditch ban had been lifted for this year.  They still had to replace two Chasers and one Beater.  Everyone on the team agreed that Ginny should get one of the Chaser positions.  They had tryouts the first Saturday of term for the other two positions.  Seamus got the other Beater position; he wasn't the best flyer, but he could hit a Bludger to do serious damage.  Dennis Creevey got the third Chaser position; his brother Colin had also tried out but Dennis was better at both flying and goal scoring.  After their first practice, Harry decided that the position of Gryffindor Quidditch captain created a personality change; Katie was at least as focused as Oliver and Angelina had been.

 

All of the original members of the DA still in school, except Cho Chang and Marietta Egdecombe, came up to ask Harry to start it back up again.  He told everyone that he did, but that they would have to talk about how it was to work this year.  After discussing it with the other members, they decided to wait until October to begin the meetings.

 

Several weeks later, Snape told Harry to stay after Potions.  Harry didn't understand why; his potion had been perfect.  Once the other students left, Snape closed the door, then locked it and cast several spells on it.  Harry recognized Silencio and an Imperturbable charm but the rest were new to him.  Only then noticing Harry's expression, Snape said sourly, "Relax, Mr. Potter.  For once you're not in trouble.  I wish to discuss something with you.  You may be able to help me with a situation in my House."

 

Harry stared wide-eyed.  How on earth could he help Snape with anything in Slytherin?  "Sir?"

 

"You are starting Dumbledore's Army up again, is that correct?" Snape asked, with the air of a man who already knew the answer.  When Harry nodded, Snape continued, "Last year, there were members from three of the houses in the group, but not from Slytherin, correct?"

 

Harry nodded warily.  "Last year, it was a group of friends helping each other out.  None of us have friends in Slytherin."

 

"That's not entirely true," Snape disagreed, without rancour.  "However, that's not the point.  Will you be expanding the membership?"

 

"We haven't met yet," Harry said, feeling very confused.  Why did Snape need to know any of this?  "It's not my group, you understand.  They chose me to lead it last year; that's all."

 

"Gryffindor to the core," Snape muttered.  Then, in his normal voice, "If it were your group, and you had sole control over its members, would you expand the group?"

 

Harry had been thinking about this and had been discussing it with Ron and Hermione.  "If it were my decision, I would open the membership to the whole school.  However, anyone who wanted to join would need to get two sponsors from the original members from two different houses.  I also think Professor Gillespie wants me to work with some students; that will probably be a different group."

 

Snape was quiet for a few moments, looking at Harry intently as he traced his lips with his finger.  The whole conversation was making Harry very nervous; it was the most pleasant Snape had ever been to him.  "It is an unfortunate fact," he finally said, "that Slytherin House has a higher percentage of Death Eaters' children than the other three houses put together.  That said, however, there are many students in my House who do not support the Dark Lord.  Some of them . . . " Snape took a deep breath, a pained expression on his face.  "Some of them are likely to be attacked for their disloyalty.  And I'm certain you understand why I cannot protect them.  Not if I want to continue being useful to everyone.  I had hoped you would be willing to accept some of those at the highest risk, those who would benefit most from the group."

 

Harry stared in shock, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made.  "Would we have to keep them secret?"

 

"No, their politics are known," Snape said.  "There have already been . . . incidents."  At Harry's start of surprise, Snape snapped, "No matter what you believe, Slytherin doesn't mean evil.  Our defining characteristic is ambition.  Many of the students here are as appalled by, and as willing to fight, the Dark Lord as the bravest Gryffindor.  Unfortunately, they haven't the support your housemates do."

 

"Who?"

 

Snape smirked.  "If I said Draco Malfoy?"

 

Harry glared.  "I don't believe it."

 

"I wasn't serious," Snape said, tiredly.  "For the initial experiment, I was thinking Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greenglass.  Mr. Zabini, especially, has been given a difficult time in the dorms."

 

Harry knew Blaise by sight, but that was it; Daphne he didn't know at all.  "I wouldn't mind having eyes and ears in Slytherin," he finally agreed.

 

Snape rolled his eyes.  "I doubt they'll be of much help with that as things stand.  You'll stand sponsor for them?"

 

"I want to talk to them first," Harry said.  "And they're on their own for the second sponsor."

 

Snape nodded.  "An appropriate test, if nothing else," he agreed.  "Will there be any more jinxes if they are indiscreet?  They will ask."

 

After thinking a moment, Harry shook his head.  "I don't think so.  That was just to keep us all out of trouble.  The group may overrule me on that one."

 

Snape stood, removed the silencing spells and opened the door.  "I'll let you know."  As Harry walked out the door, Snape said quietly, "Thank you, Mr. Potter."  Before Harry could react, the door was closed.

**   
**


	6. Opening Moves

The Friday before Hogsmeade, the members of the old DA assembled in the Room of Requirement.  With the exception of Marietta Edgecombe, all of them still in school were there.  After everyone had arrived, Harry stood up, which was the signal for the others to stop talking.  Standing there, Harry felt as if he were doing something real for the first time in months.  "The first thing we have to decide is who the leader is going to be."

 

Zacharias Smith, a fifth year Hufflepuff, snorted.  "We're all here because of you."  He stood up and looked around.  "Does anybody not want Harry in charge?"  When no one raised their hand, he sat down and looked at Harry.  "First thing done.  Next?"

 

"Right.  The next thing," Harry continued, "is what we do with this group.  Professor Gillespie has implied that he'll be recommending students to me and there may be others who want to join."  Several people nodded.  "I rather like the idea of this group staying small and exclusive, but I also like the idea of a school-wide club with no house loyalties.  I thought what we'd do is this.  We leave Dumbledore's Army as a small group.  The only people who can join are those recommended by at least two people from different houses.  That'll mean no one house will dominate and that we can hopefully trust everyone in the group.  I think we keep that group, if not secret, then quiet.  We form the Defence Association, which will be for anyone who wants to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts.  That we can open to everybody.  What do you think?" 

 

He had worked hard deciding on what he wanted to do with the club.  On the one hand, he thought it a good idea for everyone to thoroughly understand the defensive spells they'd concentrated on last year, but he also couldn't help thinking that he might actually have the beginnings of a group much like the Order of the Phoenix. 

 

Everyone erupted into a lively debate.  After several minutes, Terry Boot, a sixth year Ravenclaw, asked, "What about the Slytherins?  You didn't say anything about them."

 

"We certainly can't trust them," said Ernie MacMillan.  There was a general agreement in the room.

 

"Wait a minute," Terry said.  "I'm friendly with a couple of them.  Not Malfoy or his gang, but some of the others are all right."

 

"I think if we look at all the Slytherins as bad," Harry said slowly, "we're making the same mistake we accuse them of.  We might find some we like."  Terry nodded emphatically.  "If nothing else, we may be able to get information about what's happening in Slytherin."

 

"I'll give it a try," Ernie said, "but it doesn't mean I have to like it."

 

They agreed on a time for the next meeting of both groups.  On their way out, Cho put her hand on Harry's arm.  "Can you wait for a minute please?"

 

Harry waited with Cho until the others left the room.  Ron gave Cho a hard look on his way out and, looking at Harry, mouthed, "Are you all right?"  Harry nodded and Ron followed Hermione out.

 

Once the others had gone, Cho turned to Harry.  "Thanks for staying.  I just wanted to apologize for . . . everything last year.  I guess we just weren't destined to be."

 

Harry shrugged.  "I guess not.  How are things between you and Michael?"

 

"They're OK.  He's nice, I'm happy with him and he's happy with me.  We, you and I, never seemed to be happy.  Have you found anyone?"  She gave him a funny look; Harry couldn't figure out what it meant.

 

"No.  There's too much going on."  Harry wished she'd leave.  Cho was still awfully pretty and she made his stomach feel funny but he didn't really want to be around her any more.

 

"Oh."  Cho looked as if she was going to say something else, but seemed to think better of it.  "I need to get back to studying.  NEWTs this year."

 

"Yeah," Harry said, edging towards the door.  "Good luck with that."

 

Cho left, glancing over her shoulder at him.  Harry was very relieved once they separated and he hoped he wouldn't have to talk with her like that again.

 

The next day was a Hogsmeade Saturday.  When Ron was getting ready to leave, he asked Hermione if she was coming as well.  "No.  My parents told Professor Dumbledore that they withdrew their permission for me to go to Hogsmeade this year."

 

"What?  Why?" Ron demanded.

 

 "They were considering it when they found out about all of the dangerous stuff, but the final straw was those letters," Hermione said.  They were sitting in the common room.  Crookshanks was on her lap and she was petting him absentmindedly.

 

"What about them?" Harry asked.  "You said they just made some nasty comments about Mudbloods."

 

Hermione bit her lip and looked miserable.  "I didn't want to worry you, Harry, but they were pretty bad."

 

"You need to stop protecting people by not telling them things," Harry said.

 

"You're right," Hermione sighed.  "It's just really hard.  Mine were pretty bad, but nothing I hadn't expected.  They said terrible things would be done to me if I kept coming to Hogwarts and if I kept being your friend," she said, looking right at Harry.  "Nothing really new there.  The ones my parents got were pretty much the same, but they weren't expecting it.  It took Professor Dumbledore a long time to calm them down and for them to let me come back to Hogwarts at all.  I'm not allowed to leave school grounds for any reason unless they give their express permission.  If I do, they'll pull me out of Hogwarts immediately."

 

Both boys stared at her in shock, unable to figure out how to cheer her up.  After a few minutes, she looked up and saw their faces.  "Honestly, you two, it's not the end of the world.  I just have to stay here in the school but that's no different than it was our first two years.  It will give me more time to study with fewer distractions."  Crookshanks jumped off her lap and she stood.  "Harry, why don't we work on your Potions essay?"  Harry sighed and agreed.

 

Ron decided he'd still go to Hogsmeade.  He'd promised Fred and George that he'd check some things out at Zonko's and report back to them.  "But it won't be nearly as much fun without you two."  He walked off, looking dejected.

 

After bringing his homework down to the common room, Harry found himself gazing out the window at the bright, fall day.  "Hermione, is there any reason we can't do the studying outside?" he asked.

 

"I was thinking that by staying in it wouldn't hurt so badly that I can't go, but I think you're right."  She packed up her things and followed Harry outside.

 

The two of them spent the afternoon by the lake.  Harry found himself getting quite a bit of his homework done, but he spent at least as much time staring out at the lake.  Later in the afternoon, a breeze picked up and the day got chilly.  They decided to go back in where it was warm.

 

As they walked up the stairs to the portrait hole, Hermione started sniffling.  "What's wrong?" Harry asked.

 

"I hate this," she answered, "and I don't know how you do it.  People are threatening me, I can't do what I want, my parents are upset with me, and everybody thinks I'm ugly."  By the time she finished, she was wailing.

 

Harry was at a total loss as to what to do.  When Hermione sat down on the stairs, he sat down next to her.  A minute later, she threw her arms around him and sobbed her heart out on his shoulder.  He patted her gently, wishing he knew the proper way to calm down a crying girl.  After a bit, she stopped crying and sat there with her head nestled into his shoulder.  They were still sitting that way when Ron came back.

 

"What's going on?" he asked, very alarmed.

 

Hermione sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from a pocket, blowing her nose.  "I was just upset by everything that's going on.  Harry was kind enough to let me cry on him."

 

Ron looked oddly relieved.  "Better you than me," he said to Harry.  He continued, "Things'll improve; you'll see.  While you're waiting, I got chocolate frogs at Honeydukes."  If Hermione's laugh was a little watery, neither of the boys mentioned it.

 

Harry was greeted by a post owl as he was eating breakfast Monday morning.  It wasn't his _Daily Prophet_, but a letter addressed with unfamiliar handwriting.  He opened it wondering why people were writing to him now.

 

_Dear Mr. Potter,_ it said,

 

_As you aware, this Halloween will be the fifteenth anniversary of your defeat of You-Know-Who.  Since he has returned, we are publishing a special edition of the Daily Prophet commemorating his original defeat.  We would like to interview you; please let us know what time is convenient._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Martin Elphick_

_Special Features Editor,_

Daily Prophet__

 

Harry read the letter over twice, hoping he'd misread it the first time.  Then, he handed it to Hermione, asking, "What am I going to do about this?"

 

Hermione read it over and handed it to Ron while she thought.  "Nice, they don't even ask if you want to be interviewed," she said, sniffing.  "I don't think ignoring it is the best approach, though.  Maybe you could write to Professor Lupin.  He might know the best way to handle this."

 

"That's not a bad idea, mate," Ron agreed.  "Or you could ask Dumbledore.  I'm sure he'll tell you what to do."

 

Harry sighed.  "Maybe, but I think I'm more comfortable with Lupin."  He scrawled a short note explaining about the letter but had to wait until after Care of Magical Creatures before he could run up to the Owlery to post it.

 

Hedwig returned over breakfast on Wednesday morning with a reply from Lupin.  He would be at the castle that evening to discuss it; Harry was to meet him at the Headmaster's office.  Harry showed the letter to Ron, grumbling, "If I'd wanted to talk about it with Dumbledore, I'd have gone to him in the first place."

 

Because of his distraction, Potions was a disaster.  In making a Restorative Draught, Harry mixed up the amounts of two of the ingredients.  Only Snape's fast _Evanesco_ prevented an explosion.  "That's twenty points from Gryffindor for your recklessness and a detention tonight," Snape said.

 

"Sir, I'm supposed to be in the Headmaster's office tonight after supper," Harry said.  His stomach felt like a block of ice; he really didn't want to hear Snape sneering at him.

 

He was surprised when Snape instead just nodded, "That's right; I'd heard about that.  Very well, Potter; be here tomorrow after supper for your detention."  Harry nodded, relieved that Snape hadn't been any nastier.  He still got a zero for the class, but he supposed he couldn't really complain about that.

 

That night, he went up to Dumbledore's office immediately after supper.  Lupin was already there; the two of them stopped their conversation when Harry walked in.  "Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him.  "May I ask why you didn't bring this to me in the first place?"

 

Harry sighed.  "You have to make decisions and give advice based on what's best for the school and the Wizarding world.  I wanted to discuss what's best for me; I hoped Professor Lupin would do that."

 

Dumbledore gave Harry a penetrating look.  There was no twinkle in his eyes tonight.  Finally, he nodded.  "I do try to do what's best for you, Harry, but I can understand why you have difficulty believing that.  Perhaps the two of you could take a walk around the grounds; it's a pleasant evening."

 

Lupin looked at Harry.  "Is that all right with you?"

 

Harry nodded and the two of them walked out of the castle and towards the lake.  "Why don't you trust Professor Dumbledore?" Lupin asked as they walked.

 

"It's not that I don't trust him," Harry explained, as much to himself as to Lupin. "It's just that what I need, and what I want, aren't as important to him as other things.  I can guess what the best thing to do for the Wizarding world is; I want to know what's best for me.  If I give this interview, it'll be on the front page; I'll look like I really am seeking attention.  But if I don't give it, they'll blast me for hiding things from the press.  I can't win and I want a way out of it."

 

They walked quietly for a bit.  Lupin was staring over the grounds contemplatively.  Finally, he said, "I don't think things are as dire as you're painting them.  Why don't you give the interview to Skeeter?  The interview you gave her last year went very well." When Harry didn't respond, Lupin gave him a sympathetic look.  "What's really wrong?"

 

"He talks about my defeating Voldemort.  But I didn't!  They're talking about the night he was defeated but, to me, it's the night my parents died.  I don't want people looking at me as a hero; I'm not."

 

"Mm," Lupin was quiet for a minute.  "Maybe not.  Why don't you tell him that that's the interview you'll give?  Let him know you won't pretend to be a hero; tell him it's your parents you want to discuss.  I'd advise, if you do this," Lupin continued, "that you give the interview with the Headmaster present.  Me, as well, if you wish and they agree.  If you're asking for advice from adults, they're less likely to view you as a hero."

 

Harry snorted.  "I wish I believed that.  Would you help me write the response?"

 

Lupin nodded.  "I'd be delighted."

 

Instead of going back to the castle, they stopped at Hagrid's hut.  He was delighted to see them, pressing tea and cakes on them.  After the letter was written, they had an enjoyable visit, Lupin and Hagrid telling stories about Harry's parents while they were in school.  Harry couldn't help think about the scene he'd seen in Snape's pensieve, but he resolutely pushed it out of his mind.  He was determined to enjoy this evening.

 

On his way back to the common room, he stopped at the Owlery to give the letter to Hedwig.  He stayed up there a while, watching her fly away and then just looking at the night sky.

 

He got a response the next morning.  Mr. Elphick agreed to his conditions and suggested Rita Skeeter meet with him in Professor Dumbledore's office that Saturday.  After classes that day, he went to the headmaster's office.  He gave the password and he found the office door already open.

 

"Come in, Harry," the headmaster greeted him.  "Please, have a seat.  Would you like some tea?  Biscuits?  Sherbet lemon?"

 

Harry accepted a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit and sat down, handing the note to Dumbledore.  He read it and nodded.  "That would be fine with me, if that's what you're asking," he said.  "Would you like me to tell Remus?"

 

"If you like," Harry said.  "I'm sending him a letter in any case."

 

Dumbledore nodded and started chatting about unimportant matters.  Harry let him talk, inserting "Mm" and "Oh" as necessary.  Eventually, Dumbledore let him go.

 

After supper, Harry walked down to the dungeons for his detention.  Ron and Hermione decided to walk down with him.  When he asked why, Hermione said, "I have a feeling about tonight.  If I'm wrong, we'll leave."  Harry shrugged.

 

When he walked into Snape's classroom, he decided that he really should have figured out what was happening.  In addition to Snape, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass were there.  "Mr. Potter," Snape said.  "Are you incapable of even doing a detention without your cohorts?"

 

Ron's ears turned pink, but Hermione said calmly, "We thought you might be setting things up for the DA.  Ron and I have an idea about it."

 

Snape actually looked interested at that.  "Go on."

 

"We know that you've asked Harry if Blaise and Daphne can join the DA.  If they can get one of the other DA members to agree, they can join.  We thought since Harry's the leader, we'd keep him out of it.  That way, he can overrule any complaints without it looking like he has a vested interest.  He does, but not for you."

 

Blaise and Daphne exchanged startled looks.  "That sounds rather like a Slytherin's logic if you ask me," Daphne said.  When Ron looked like he was going to explode, she added, "That was a compliment.  And a good point.  I gather the two of you will sponsor us."

 

Ron nodded.  "That was the idea."

 

Snape looked at the five of them for a few minutes.  No one said anything while he thought it through.  Harry thought he should be nervous but he wasn't; Snape seemed to be deciding if Hermione's change was a good idea but he didn't seem upset by it.  He finally nodded, "Yes, I believe the advantages outweigh the disadvantages.  I believe you two should agree," he said, looking at Blaise and Daphne.

 

"It sounds good to me," said Blaine.  "Which of you sponsors which of us?"

 

"Daphne and I have studied together before," Hermione said, "which leaves Ron to speak for you.  Do you have the second person to speak for you?"

 

Daphne nodded.  "Terry Boot has agreed to speak for me and I think Susan Bones has agreed to speak for Blaise.  Will that do it?"

 

Hermione told them the time and place of the next meeting and the four of them left chatting about what they would be working on.  Before the door closed, Harry heard Daphne ask, "You can do a Patronus?"

 

This left Harry with Snape for his detention.  He stood straight and asked, "What will I be doing tonight, Professor?"

 

Snape smirked at him.  "Three things.  First, you will write a minimum of a foot on the Restorative Draught.  It will include the ingredients and the correct procedure for brewing it.  Second, you will show me your plans for the next Defence class.  I have something of a vested interest in it, you understand.  Third, you will write everything you know and understand about Legilimency.  Professor Dumbledore wishes me to teach you but, before I do, I wish to know what misconceptions I must clear up."  He checked something on his desk.  "It is after six-thirty.  If you are not finished by nine-thirty, you will complete this work in your own time, but no later than curfew tomorrow night."  When Harry stood there, unmoving, Snape glared at him.  "Well?  Get to work."

 

Since Harry had already gone over his notes to see what he had done wrong with the Restorative Draught, he was able to finish that quickly.  His DA plans were already written up; he just had to copy them out.  That left him with over an hour to write down everything he could remember about Legilimency.  He hadn't studied that as carefully as Occlumency, but he was surprised to see what he could remember.  It was just past nine when Harry walked up to Snape's desk with his three papers.  Snape looked up, took them from Harry, and then nodded for Harry to sit in the chair next to his desk.

 

He quickly read over the Potions essay, nodded and marked an A at the top.  "A little more research, Mr. Potter, and I might have been willing to consider erasing yesterday's zero."  Harry stared at Snape in shock, as the Potions Master read over his DA plans.  After reading over them twice, he looked up at Harry but didn't really seem to see him.  "Mr. Potter, have you ever seen a teacher's class notes?"

 

"No, sir," Harry said.  He couldn't help wondering if he had managed, somehow, to switch universes again to one where Snape didn't hate him.

 

"Pity.  Ask Lupin, you need to learn how to structure a class better."  As Harry absorbed this second shock, Snape reviewed what he had written on Legilimency.  "You still have a very simplistic understanding of both Legilimency and Occlumency; however, I can begin with this."  He picked a thin book up from his desk.  Its title said _The Mind's Secrets_ by Jacob E. Snape.  "You may borrow this.  Read it in its entirety and be prepared to discuss it next Wednesday night.  You may go."

 

Harry picked the book up and stared at Snape.  When he hadn't moved after a few minutes, Snape looked up from the grading he was doing and snapped, "I said, you may go."  With that, Harry collected his things and left quickly, his head spinning.

 

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him in the common room.  "Are you all right, mate?" Ron asked.  "You look off.  Was detention that bad?"

 

"It was probably the easiest detention I've had with him," Harry said, setting down his bag.  He proceeded to tell Ron and Hermione everything Snape had told him to do and how he'd reacted.  "He was almost . . . nice," Harry finished.

 

Hermione gave him a sharp look.  "Perhaps it's because you're helping students from his house," she said.  "In making it clear that your problem is with Malfoy, and not Slytherins in general, maybe he's willing to extend the courtesy."  After discussing the mystery a little bit longer, Harry headed up to bed.

 

At the appointed time on Saturday, Harry walked up to Dumbledore's office.  Although he was early for the time they had set, Rita Skeeter and Lupin were already there.  After everyone settled in, Lupin asked, "Now, you understand that Harry doesn't want some story that makes him look as though he single-handedly brought down Voldemort when he was a child?"

 

Rita looked at him in disbelief.  "But he did!"

 

Dumbledore said, "What happened that night is still a mystery.  All we know for certain is that Voldemort first killed James and Lily Potter with the Killing Curse.  He then cast that same curse on Harry, but it rebounded and, erm, separated Voldemort from his body until he was able to create a new one over a year ago.  We don't know why it happened."

 

"Everyone believes Harry stopped him."

 

"And that's what I want to change," Harry said.  "Maybe it was something about me that stopped him but it's just as likely that something else happened and I was just there."  Harry decided to let Dumbledore bring up the protection of Lily Potter's love.  "We don't know.  I know the _Daily Prophet_ is making up this big edition, but I feel like they're celebrating my parents' deaths.  I certainly can't celebrate them."  Harry was able to stay calm but he was trembling inside.  He was glad he hadn't eaten a big breakfast; he didn't think it would have stayed down.

 

Rita was quiet and thoughtful for several minutes.  When she began asking questions again, it was more about what Harry knew about his parents, their friends, and what they had been doing to fight Voldemort.  She also asked about the Dursleys, questions that showed she had some idea how little they liked him.  Harry answered the questions about his parents as honestly as he could, trusting Lupin not to let him say anything stupid, but he avoided the questions about the Dursleys as much as he could.  They finished the interview before lunch; he asked Lupin if they could talk before he left.

 

"Of course, Harry," Lupin said.  "Shall we walk down to the Great Hall?  I am on my way out."

 

"I have a better idea," Harry said.  He walked to the Room of Requirement and walked past the entrance three times, thinking of a quiet place to talk.  When he opened the door, Lupin started.

 

"I don't believe I've ever seen this room," he said, looking around.  The room had decided they needed two armchairs, a roaring fire and not much else.  "Although I do remember a great abandoned classroom right about here.  It was the perfect place to work on things without being interrupted."

 

"I've never noticed what the Map calls this room."

 

Lupin thought a minute and shook his head.  "I can't remember.  Been too long.  Now, why did you need to talk to me?"

 

Harry felt embarrassed, but Snape's comment had made him wonder.  "When I was serving my last detention with Snape . . ."

 

"Professor Snape," Lupin said.

 

"Yeah, Professor Snape, one of the things he had me do was give him my plans for the next DA meeting.  It's going to be the first one where we really work on Defence.  He didn't say anything about what I was teaching but he did say I needed to structure my class better.  And he said to talk with you."  Harry pulled his copy of the notes out of his robes and handed them to Lupin.

 

Lupin took them and read them over.  "Hm.  I see what he means, but you're dealing with something a little different than the standard class."  Lupin thought for a minute.  "You need to start the beginners first, then you work with the more advanced students.  Otherwise, the beginners try to do the advanced work and you have trouble.  Also, with the number of people you have here-a lot more than I thought, by the way-I'd say you could use some assistants.  Pick one of the more advanced beginners and, hm, probably Hermione to help you overall.  And I wouldn't use class time to work on your own training.  Set aside a different time for that."  Lupin handed him the paper back.  "Other than that, it looks wonderful."

 

"Thanks, Professor Lupin."  Harry could see how those changes would make it easier for him.

 

Lupin laughed.  "Harry, I'm discussing teaching techniques with you, I'm not likely to ever be your professor again and, if things had gone the way they should have, you'd be calling me Uncle.  Please, call me Remus."

 

Harry looked at him, startled.  "OK.  Well, I'll try.  It'll probably feel pretty weird, though."

 

"It always does at first."  Lupin's, no Remus's, smile was gentle.  "I remember the first time I called Minerva by her first name.  I cringed, expecting her to assign me a detention."  When Harry grinned, Remus said, "It was during the year I taught here.  Old habits can be very hard to break."

 

They talked for a few more minutes but Remus had things to do that afternoon.  "Harry, please keep in touch," he said, as Harry walked him to the Entrance Hall.

 

His days became a blur of classes, homework, Quidditch and DA meetings.  Professor Snape would stop him after class every week or two with rolls of parchment to send through Harry's mirror; he would usually get a response in a handwriting Harry didn't recognize about a week later.  His gratitude for being able to communicate with his collaborator didn't change anything in Potions; Snape was still terribly unfair.  He took points from Gryffindor for the flimsiest of reasons, gave them to Slytherins for anything and sneered at Harry during classes.  Harry did his best to keep his head down, do his work and let the rest slide by him.

 

Professor Gillespie continued to favour the pure-bloods and half-bloods over the Muggle-born in his classes.  His grades were scrupulously fair, as were his points, but he never acknowledged the Muggle-born in class, no matter how well they did. 

 

The two DA groups each met about weekly.  The public group quickly grew until it had well over a hundred students in it.  The members came from all four houses, although most of the Slytherins were from the younger grades.  Just as Professor McGonagall had now started sending younger students for Harry to tutor, Harry had the more advanced members working with the DA members who were struggling.  The more private group was reviewing the material they had learned last year; but then Harry was going to start them on duelling.  Harry wrote to Remus for help with planning the sessions.  He wasn't sure which he enjoyed more: the new spells he was learning more or watching his students grasp a concept they hadn't been able to understand.

 

Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore were going along quite well; he could now consistently keep Dumbledore out of his head for quite some time and many nights Dumbledore couldn't break in at all.  He was continuing to clear his mind before sleep and practicing different techniques.  His scar prickled off and on, but he had no more visions.  He had the feeling, however, that the connection between he and Voldemort wasn't closed, just quiet.  The Legilimency lessons with Snape, on the other hand, weren't going well at all.  Snape was explaining things better to Harry this time, but he couldn't manage to get even a glimpse into Snape's mind.

 

The night before Halloween, Harry went to bed thinking about the Quidditch match that weekend between Gryffindor and Slytherin.  He wasn't feeling himself as he went to bed, his head aching and his scar prickling.

 

He dreamed he was chasing the Snitch but every time he got close to it, Malfoy would pull a gun out and shoot at him.  Harry finally lost his temper and turned his wand into an automatic gun, which he fired at Malfoy.  He succeeded, but discovered he couldn't turn the gun back into his wand.  Then everything around him went dark.  When he could see again, he was holding someone else's wand, walking through the doors of a giant stone fortress.  He walked down corridors of cells; in front of each, he would tell someone behind him that the inhabitant of the cell was to be released, was to die or was to be taken for further questioning.  He reached a cell in which a man was standing straight, waiting for him.  "Ah, yes," he said in a high, cold voice, "Mr. Malfoy.  Join me; we have much to discuss."  Harry realized he was in Azkaban and that the Death Eaters had taken over the prison.  He struggled to wake, but found himself unable to do so.  After several more minutes, as he watched a dozen more inmates being sentenced to death, they finally came across a cell in which a man sat.  Harry felt himself smile.  "They sentenced you to life imprisonment here on the testimony of one of my Death Eaters.  Very good, very good.  Bellatrix, you may take him and . . . play."

 

The anger Harry felt towards Bellatrix was so overpowering, he finally managed to wake himself up.  He woke screaming, his throat as sore as if he had been doing so for some time.  His head felt as if it would split along his scar.  He was terribly nauseated from the pain and anger, but managed to keep from vomiting.  When he had his stomach and voice under control, he told the others, "I have to see Dumbledore."

 

"Neville's already gone for him," Seamus told him.  "I don't know if he'll bring Dumbledore here or if you'll have to go to him, but he should be back any moment now."  Harry decided to wait for a few moments, sipping the water Dean handed him. 

 

Ron pulled out some parchment and a quill.  "While you're waiting for Dumbledore," Ron said, "I thought you might try writing the vision down."  As this seemed like a good idea, Harry took him up on it.

 

He'd written all the details he could remember when Neville came back into the dorm room.  "Dumbledore asked that you come to his office," he said.  "Can you walk on your own or will you need help?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "I can walk on my own," and got up to do so.  The others exchanged looks and followed Harry to the headmaster's office. 

 

When they arrived, Dumbledore looked amused, but admitted all five boys.  He asked Harry to repeat his dream and any other observations he might have had.  Harry did so and handed over the parchment he had taken the notes on.  "Sir," he asked, "might I have a copy of that?"

 

Dumbledore nodded and duplicated the parchment, handing the copy to Harry.  He also confirmed with Harry that he had cleared his mind before going to sleep the night before.  The five Gryffindors returned to their dorm room.  The others were discussing what Harry's dream might mean; Harry had no doubt.  Voldemort had taken over Azkaban Prison, and was releasing the Death Eaters who had been imprisoned there.

 

Ron and Hermione were waiting for Harry in the common room the next morning.  "We thought you might want some company," Hermione said.  "How bad can it be, anyway?"

 

Harry and Ron exchanged looks, and then stared at Hermione.  "I don't even want to think about how bad it could be," Harry said.  "I just hope Rita behaved herself and only printed what I actually said."

 

The post hadn't come when they walked into the Great Hall.  They were able to get about halfway through their breakfast when the _Daily Prophet_ owls flew in with their papers.  Hermione gave the owl that brought Harry's newspaper its Knuts while Harry opened the paper.

 

The article wasn't as bad as Harry had feared.  The headline read "Anniversary of You-Know-Who's First Defeat" and underneath were three photographs.  The larger one was of a half-demolished house with the Dark Mark over it, the other two were of James and Lily Potter.  There were several articles about the entire history of the first war and what was happening now.  The interview he had given Rita, although listed on the front page, was printed on the third.  It was accurate, she hadn't put words in his mouth this time, and Rita had put more emphasis on what his parents had done than on what he had done.

 

Reading over his shoulder, Ron started to say something when Harry's scar started to blaze in pain.  There were no visions associated with this pain, just the undeniable feeling that Voldemort was furious.  It lasted for several minutes; when it finally started to fade, Harry opened his eyes to see Ron and Hermione looking very pale and worried.  "It's all right," Harry told them.  "I don't think Voldemort likes what was in the paper today."

 

"Good," Ron said.  "Finish up your breakfast; we have to be in Transfiguration in ten minutes." 

 

A lot of people found excuses to talk to Harry that day.  Most didn't start by talking about the special edition, but soon found a way to bring it into the conversation around to it.  Harry found it interesting that most of them didn't bring up his interview, but asked him what he thought Voldemort's next moves were going to be. 

 

The Slytherins had Transfiguration right after the Gryffindors.  As Harry left the classroom, Malfoy called over to him, "You really love the attention, don't you, Scarhead?  I bet today's paper was all your idea, wasn't it?"  When Harry walked by him without reacting, Malfoy yelled, "We're not worthy of your attention, is that it?"

 

Before Harry could react, Blaise called out, "Did McGonagall assign any essays today?"

 

Grateful for the distraction, Harry nodded.  "Yeah, twelve inches on changing humans to rodents.  Like ferrets."

 

Blaise kept his face straight, but it looked like he wanted to break out into laughter.  "Thanks.  I was hoping we could focus on the Quidditch match this weekend; I want to savour beating you."

 

"In your dreams, Zabini.  In your dreams."  As Harry passed Blaise, he mouthed, "Thanks."  Blaise nodded, looking very pleased.

 

Although there weren't a lot of nasty comments, by the time classes were done Harry was exhausted.  He would have skipped the Halloween Feast, but Ron talked him into coming.  "Come on, you've hardly eaten any breakfast or lunch.  You've got to eat, Harry."

 

As he looked around the Great Hall filled with candle-lit pumpkins, Harry was glad Ron had talked him into it.

 

**   
**


	7. With a Little Help from My Friends

Saturday morning dawned clear and chilly, perfect Quidditch weather.  Harry ate breakfast calmly, but he was the only one.  There were rumours flying around that the Slytherin team had decided to win the game no matter what they had to do.  Harry had decided he was going to play a good and fair game and not let Malfoy, or any of the other players, get to him.  When they got to the pitch, they found that Malfoy had been made the captain of the Slytherin team.  He shook hands with Katie, apparently trying to crush her hand, and then got ready for Madam Hooch's whistle.

 

The Slytherins were playing the dirtiest game they ever had.  Their Chasers continually bumped and interfered with the Gryffindor Chasers and their Beaters hit every Bludger they could straight at Harry.  More than once, Harry found himself grateful he was flying a Firebolt; it was only his broom's agility that kept him from getting hurt.  At the beginning of the game, the Slytherins were singing "Weasley Is Our King", but they quickly realized that, this year, it made Ron play even better.  The Chasers started aiming the Quaffle directly at Ron, instead of the hoops, in the hope of hurting Ron badly enough to take him out of the game.  Madam Hooch blew her whistle over and over, assigning penalties to the Slytherin team and getting louder and louder in her assessments of their strategy.  After the first hour, the score was 90-30 in Slytherin's favour and the Gryffindor team was struggling to keep playing; they were all getting hurt. 

 

Then, Harry saw the Snitch.  It was circling one of the Slytherin's goal posts, right next to their Keeper.  Draco was much closer to it than Harry was; he knew he'd have to fake the other Seeker out to have a chance at catching the winged, gold ball first.  He turned toward the Gryffindor goal and dived for the ground.  Draco saw him and raced toward him, obviously hoping to beat him to the Snitch.  As soon as Draco was right next to him, Harry swung his broom around and raced toward the Slytherin goals.  The Snitch was still there!  Malfoy chased him, as did Crabbe and Goyle, the two Beaters sending every Bludger they could straight at him.  Harry swerved and dived, using every trick at his disposal to avoid the Bludgers.  Just as he came up on the Snitch, it decided to go through one of the goals.  Harry circled to the other side and caught it just as it came through.  As he heard "Harry Potter's caught the Snitch!  Gryffindor wins!" he was hit by a Bludger he hadn't seen.  He hung onto both his broom and the Snitch, but went diving down to the ground.  As he fell, he saw the second Bludger come up toward him.  He tried to avoid it but wasn't able to.  It hit his head and everything went dark.

 

Harry gradually woke up.  He could hear his teammates talking around him; he suspected he was once more in the Hospital Wing.  He decided to listen for a few minutes before he opened his eyes, to see what was going on.

 

"Since both Crabbe and Goyle hit Bludgers at Harry after he had caught the Snitch, Madam Hooch has suspended them from playing the next game," Katie said.

 

Harry couldn't resist.  He opened his eyes and looked at his teammates.  "Crabbe and Goyle have both been suspended from a match.  Too bad she won't suspend them for the rest of the season," Harry snarled.  "It'd serve them right."

 

"Yeah, but it's still pretty good," Jack Sloper said.  "Not only did they both get the suspension, she told Snape off in front of the whole school for the dirtiest game she has ever seen.  While we were getting you up here, Draco came up and started insulting Ron; you know the usual insults.  Professor McGonagall heard it and took twenty-five points for unsportsmanlike behaviour.  And, since Ron had been keeping his mouth shut, Snape couldn't do anything about it."

 

"Yeah, well, I was too busy being worried about you," Ron admitted, grinning.  "I think he got as bad as he did because I couldn't be bothered listening to him.  Draco Malfoy hates being ignored."

 

Harry grinned.  "So their Beaters each get a game suspension, their House loses an additional twenty-five points and Snape gets publicly reprimanded.  Can it get any better than this?"

 

"Yes, it can," Harry heard Madam Pomfrey say behind him.  "You will once again survive the damage you've had done to yourself by playing this foolish game.  Let me check you over."  Harry had the feeling she was a little disappointed he wasn't more badly injured; she seemed to want to scold him some more.  "You may go, but you're to come back straight away if your head starts hurting, you get queasy or you start seeing double.  Do you understand me?"

 

Harry agreed with everything she said, and left the hospital wing for the party in Gryffindor Tower.

 

The _Daily Prophet_ finally confirmed Harry's vision in Thursday morning's edition.  It was as bad as Harry had feared.  A group of Death Eaters had evicted the guards of Azkaban.  They hadn't hurt anyone in the process and had informed the guards as they were leaving that they would continue to guard anyone sent to Azkaban; that those sentenced would not be allowed loose in the general public.  The Minister gave a statement in which he claimed that those now holding Azkaban weren't Death Eaters, but a concerned private company.  Harry wondered if that meant the dementors would be back working for the Death Eaters or if they were roaming the countryside attacking innocents.

 

Looking for Malfoy to see how he was reacting to the news, Harry discovered that the other boy was nowhere to be seen.  Neither Ron nor Hermione knew where he was, but Hermione recommended he ask Blaise at the DA meeting that night.

 

Throughout the day Harry felt waves of overwhelming joy.  He would try using Occlumency, but found that he still felt the happiness; he could just be sure that the feelings came from Voldemort instead of him.  Everyone was discussing the events at Azkaban; the level of fear in the castle was much greater.

 

That evening, after the DA meeting, Harry asked Blaise and Daphne to stay behind.  "I've been looking for Malfoy today, but he hasn't been around.  Is he in the Hospital Wing or just skiving off his classes?"

 

  

  1. It's the second time it's happened, too; he went home for two days in September."
  



 

Harry tried to think of two days when Malfoy hadn't been around, but couldn't remember.  "What kind of family thing?  Is it because his father's in Azkaban or something else?"

 

Blaise had been chewing his lip but finally sighed.  "I don't know exactly what it's about; I've never been high on his list of confidants, but Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott know a bit about it.  Nott's been complaining that he'd be just as good a candidate as Malfoy.  I think it's a Death Eater thing, and something . . . Well, he acts like it's a huge honour, whatever it is."

 

"That agrees with what Pansy's been saying," Daphne said.  "She keeps nattering on about how important her 'dear Draco' is to the cause.  I don't know if any of them know exactly what he's doing, but I'll bet it's nothing good."

 

Harry exchanged worried looks with Ron and Hermione.  This didn't sound good at all.

 

That night, Harry was too restless to go to sleep.  His stomach was in knots and he kept feeling overwhelming feelings of happiness.  He went through every technique of Occlumency he'd learned but, although he didn't see or hear anything, the feelings didn't stop.

 

Sitting in the common room the next day, Harry started thinking about the dream he had had the night before Halloween.  He had cleared his mind before sleep but had still seen, and felt, what Voldemort had.  Was it possible that Occlumency couldn't block the connection?  He spent the morning reading through his Occlumency books, taking notes on anything that seemed to apply.

 

By the time he joined Ron and Hermione for lunch, he had decided that he wasn't very good at this kind of research.  Fortunately, Hermione was.  He explained the problem and what he had found.

 

"You mean you can't control the connection at all?" Ron asked, horrified.  "That's awful!"

 

"I'm not sure that's true," Hermione said.  "Harry doesn't seem to be able to block it, or stop it, but . . . Harry, have you tried to initiate it?"

 

Harry thought about it.  "No.  I never even thought about trying to initiate it; everyone seems really sure I shouldn't be seeing these things at all.  And we don't want Voldemort to see what I do."

 

"Has he?" Hermione asked.  "Can he?  I don't think he ever has.  He can, sometimes, tell when you're in his head, but the connection seems to be one-way.  Maybe you should be trying to use it instead of block it?"  She thought for a moment.  "I think you need to discuss this with Dumbledore."

 

Harry agreed.  He sent Hedwig with a note to the headmaster and sat down to write the twenty-inch essay on sleep potions he still had to do.  Just before supper, Hedwig returned with a note.  Harry opened it and read, _"Come immediately after supper."_ in the headmaster's loopy handwriting.  He showed it to Ron and Hermione and tossed it in the fire.

 

After a supper that didn't sit very well, Harry knocked on the door to the headmaster's office.  When he entered, he found Snape there as well.  Harry sat in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster.

 

"Harry," Dumbledore began, "after reading your note and discussing it with Severus, I believe we need to take a more careful look at this connection you have with Voldemort.  It does not appear to be any type of mental connection with which we are familiar.  I will ask you to be patient while we ask you a number of questions; we appear to be under some, erm, misunderstandings when it comes to these visions.  First, will you please describe the dream you had the other night?  I will ask you to include any dream immediately before or after; it may be significant."

 

Harry agreed and did his best to recreate both the original dream, the vision with Voldemort and the feelings he had the next day.  He included the precise Occlumency techniques he had used at each point and when and how badly his scar hurt at all times.  It took a while, but he was finally finished.  "That's probably more detail than you need," he concluded, "but I thought it was better to give you too much than too little."

 

"Just so, dear boy," Dumbledore agreed absently.  He and Snape were both quiet for several minutes as they worked through all of the information Harry had given them. 

 

Finally, Harry felt Snape try to push into his mind.  He was able to successfully push the Potions master out of his mind, before he was able to see any of Harry's memories.  Snape nodded and gave Harry a narrow-eyed look.  Harry felt a strange feeling of disdain flow over him, as his scar began to hurt.  He thought it might be from Snape and tried to push the man out again, but this time Occlumency didn't work.  Instead, he found himself looking at himself and Dumbledore from the other side of the room.  He heard Dumbledore ask, "Severus, what are you doing?"

 

The spell ended abruptly.  The throbbing in Harry's head faded slowly.  Snape looked at him without speaking for a moment, but then the man started pacing angrily.  "The boy's a bloody empath!  The training we've given him is completely useless; you know that!"

 

Dumbledore's eyes flew open.  "Dear Merlin," he whispered.  "And Voldemort thinks he's dealing with a simple mental connection.  A connection based on emotion . . . Harry, do you feel Voldemort's emotions through the connection?  Even when you don't see what he's seeing?"

 

Harry sighed.  "Yes.  I didn't know it was important.  I feel what he feels, sometimes even if there's nothing else.  Like this last dream, I could feel him most of the next day.  Occlumency helped," he added, hoping to calm the two men down.

 

"Occlumency helped," Dumbledore repeated faintly.  "That's . . . good to know.  Severus, do you know how to train an empath?"

 

"I know it's nearly impossible," Snape said.  "About the only thing an empath can be trained in is shields and even that's problematic.  Mostly, we try to keep them from going mad.  Potter, do you sense anyone else's emotions?"

 

"Just what everyone does," Harry answered.  "I think.  I mean, no one's ever said anything about it.  Does this mean I'm going to go mad?" he asked in a small voice.

 

"The question is if you aren't already," Snape said, smirking.

 

"Severus," Dumbledore chided, "that isn't helpful.  It means that most of the training we've given you is of limited use at best."  He was quiet for a moment and then sat up straight, seeming to have come to a resolution.  "We'll continue the Occlumency lessons and add Legilimency as well.  It may not break the connection but it does seem to lessen its impact.  In addition, as soon as I can find the appropriate books, you're going to have to learn how to shield your mind from incoming emotions."

 

"How is that different from Occlumency?" Harry asked.  The two seemed the same to him.

 

"In Occlumency, you are protecting yourself from someone else seeing your mind.  In the shielding you will have to learn, you are protecting yourself from sensing the emotions all thinking beings project.  Both protect your mind but from different things.  Mmm, maybe that's why Occlumency has been of some limited help."  Dumbledore sat up a little straighter, his eyes once more twinkling behind the half-moon glasses.  "It's getting late, Harry; you need to be off to bed.  Good night."

 

Harry headed back to his dormitory, his head spinning.  One thought kept running through his mind:  He couldn't have blocked out the image of Sirius being tortured.  His leaving for the Department of Mysteries hadn't been his fault.

 

Harry's Occlumency lessons now changed.  In addition to strengthening his Occlumency, to the point that he could block both Snape and Dumbledore at once, Dumbledore was also teaching him Legilimency and helping him learn how to create and hold shields against external emotions.  This last was especially difficult since it was different for each individual and both Dumbledore and Snape admitted that they had never tried learning the skill for themselves.  Harry slowly improved, but it didn't help the dreams.  He was starting to see through Voldemort's eyes on a nightly basis.  He no longer needed emotions to break into Voldemort's mind, just to be asleep.

 

Malfoy said nothing about why he had been called home where Blaise or Daphne could hear it, but it was affecting him.  He stopped baiting Harry and Ron; in situations in which he would once have taunted, insulted or hexed them, now he simply ignored them.  It was as if, Ron said, they were completely beneath his notice.  Harry did catch Malfoy examining him carefully on more than one occasion, but he would turn away when he caught Harry looking back.

 

A week later, Errol, the Weasley family's owl, crashed into breakfast with a letter for Ron and Ginny.  After hauling the aging owl out of the scrambled eggs, Ron read the letter first, and then handed it to Ginny with a slight smile.  "For once, we're getting good news from home," he said.

 

"Did Bill propose to Fleur?" Hermione asked.

 

As Ron shook his head, Ginny exclaimed, "Bloody Hell!"  She looked up from the letter in shock.  "Percy apologized to Mum and Dad!"

 

"That's wonderful news," Hermione said.  "What prompted that?"

 

"I reckon he got tired of everybody thinking he's such a stupid git," Ron said.  "Mum said he stopped Dad at work, apologized to him and went to the Burrow and did the same for her.  He's going to have Sunday dinner with them."

 

Harry knew this was good news for the Weasleys; Percy's estrangement had hurt the whole family.  The news left him feeling very unsettled, but he couldn't put his finger on why.  He shook off the bad feeling and congratulated Ron and Ginny on their good news.

 

In the next Potions class, Snape swept into the classroom and demanded their essays on a Petrifying Draught.  Harry had found this interesting since one of the ingredients was basilisk scales.  He found the idea of the potion itself disturbing; if not given the antidote quickly, its victim would die of suffocation.

 

After collecting the essay, Snape waved his wand and the instructions for the Draught appeared on the board.  When they went up to collect their supplies, Snape carefully handed each student two basilisk scales.  "Be very careful with these," he said.  "Basilisks are very rare and the scales, harvested by the one who killed it, are even rarer."

 

Harry looked up in surprise, but Snape didn't look at him.  Malfoy, walking back to his desk, said to Pansy Parkinson, "They wouldn't let us use anything that rare in class.  I'll bet the basilisk was no more than ten feet long."  Holding one of his up, he continued, "Brilliant that we get a chance to brew this potion, though; it's both powerful and useful."

 

Snape heard Malfoy's disdain and responded, scowling, "As you would know if you had a competent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, the size of the scales show that the basilisk in question was quite large.  In fact, it was measured, at death, at ninety-three feet.  Since its slayer is still living, they are quite potent."

 

Impressed murmuring ran around the room as Harry felt sick.  Ron leaned over and whispered, "Hey, even Malfoy's impressed with you.  That's worth something."  Harry nodded, although the sick feeling didn't go away.

 

He brewed the potion, knowing as he finished that he'd managed it perfectly.  His triumph shortly became dismay when Snape walked over to his cauldron after everyone was done.  "Let's see if you lot managed to understand what you're supposed to do.  Potter, let's see if yours was successful."

 

Harry looked up at Snape nervously.  "Do you have the antidote?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded firm and calm, rather than as scared as he felt.

 

Snape sneered at him.  "And I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be so brave."  He reached into his pocket and held up a vial with a potion the colour the antidote was supposed to be.  "Right here."

 

Harry nodded, chin lifting to look Snape right in the eye and took the dose.  He immediately felt the potion working, freezing his muscles so he couldn't move.  It was a horrible feeling; Harry couldn't move or fight against it.  Just as he thought he might faint from lack of oxygen, Snape gave him the antidote.  "Well, against all odds, you have managed to correctly brew the potion.  Congratulations."  Snape then dismissed the class.

 

As they left the dungeons, Hermione huffed, "If you were a Slytherin, he would have given you points for that."

 

"If I were a Slytherin," Harry said, "he wouldn't have used me as the test subject.  It's just Snape; he'll never be fair.  At least I'm likely to get a decent mark on it."

 

The original DA had doubled in size but didn't seem to be growing any larger.  Harry was discovering that teaching gave him as much joy as flying did.  He also thought ruefully one evening while dodging the curses Neville was practicing that it was every bit as dangerous.  The second group wasn't nearly as much fun to teach.  It was larger, with almost a hundred students, and many of the students didn't seem to want to work at learning but wanted it given to them.  Harry wrote a letter to Remus complaining about the problems.  When he finished it, Hermione, who'd been reading over his shoulder, commented, "Why don't you split the group into two or three classes?"

 

Harry sighed.  "I've got too much going on as it is.  If I split the second DA into more groups, I won't have any time to do homework.  I'm struggling to keep up as it is; you know I'm up late most nights."

 

"Maybe you just need to make things more efficient," Hermione said.  She dug out her homework planner and tore out one of the blank calendars from the back.  "What is your schedule like?"

 

They filled in his classes, Occlumency and Legilimency lessons, Quidditch games and practices and the DA meetings.  Once he'd filled in his classes and other activities, she pursed her lips.  "Isn't there anything you can give up?" she asked.  "This is almost as bad as my schedule in third year and you remember how mad that was."  She sat quietly for several minutes and then shook her head.  "Let me think about this for a couple of days, all right?"

 

Although the sixth years were taking fewer classes, those classes had become much harder.  With everything he was doing, even with all the late nights and long hours on the weekends, Harry found himself falling further and further behind in his classes.  Hermione was always willing to help him, but he never seemed to have enough time.  It began to feel like last year, when he was doing his detention with Umbridge; no matter what he did, he never seemed to have enough time.  The DA and Quidditch were the only things he could drop, but he didn't want to do so.  Although they took up a lot of his time, they were also the most enjoyable things he was doing these days.

 

In Defence Against the Dark Arts, Gillespie had begun a unit on curses and countercurses based on blood.  These were curses, and countercurses, that used blood to increase their strength.  He had started by going over those that were based on the shared blood of family and now moved to those that used blood taken from another.  When he mentioned that, Harry sat up straight.  "You can make spells more powerful just by taking another person's blood?"  Harry heard Hermione breathe in sharply beside him and felt Ron sit up straighter.

 

"That's right, Mr. Potter," Gillespie answered.  "These spells are only increased on the wizard whose blood is being used."

 

Before he could continue, Harry asked, "Other than what's in the text, can you point me to any books that go into this deeper?"

 

Gillespie frowned thoughtfully.  "Since we're only going into the curses to understand the countercurses, I hadn't planned on going any deeper into this subject.  And it is school policy not to teach Dark Arts."  He paused, cleaning his glasses while he thought.  "I'll discuss what books are, er, appropriate to recommend to you with the Headmaster."  He gave Harry a piercing, thoughtful look before turning back to the blackboard and writing a list of countercurses intended to block the blood link.

 

After the next senior DA meeting, Hermione asked Harry to stay behind.  "I have a solution to your time problem," she said.

 

In addition to Harry and Hermione, Ron, Susan Bones, Mandy Brocklehurst, Anthony Goldstein, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood stayed behind.  When everyone else had left, Anthony started, "Hermione's talked with all of us about the insanity of your schedule.  Looking at it, it's obvious that something has to give.  So, we're here to help you.  Susan is great with Potions, Mandy is top in Transfiguration, I'm second only to Hermione in Charms and Neville is great with Herbology.  You, of course, are at the top in Defence and you do all right in Care of Magical Creatures.  We'll tutor you in our best subjects.  We thought we'd divide the junior DA into two groups, put Ron in charge of one and Luna in charge of the other.  Hermione's great at organization and she's the best in our year overall.  Are you interested?"

 

It took Harry a minute to get his voice under control.  "I don't know what to say," he said.  "I don't know how I could ever make it up to you, but I can't deny I could use the help."

 

Luna looked at him gravely.  "I don't think you realize how much you've given us all," she said.  "A lot of people died the first time around with Riddle; if you hadn't stopped him, even more would have.  But that's the least important of what you've done."  Anthony, Mandy and Neville looked at her as if she'd gone mad, but Hermione smiled.  "Just by standing firm, you give us someone to look up to.  No, you're not the best student, but that makes it easier to look up to you.  You're not impossibly perfect; you're just Harry.  Just Harry who lets Draco Malfoy bait you into doing stupid things, whose grades aren't anywhere near the best in the class, who probably loses your house more points than anyone else in your history and who doesn't let the pain in your life stop you from helping others.  You make being brave look easy but even better, you make standing up to You-Know-Who and all the evil around us look possible.  And we want to make it easier for you to be just you."  All the others nodded, smiling at him.

 

Harry couldn't respond.  He knew a lot of people thought highly of him because he was "The Boy Who Lived", but this meant so much more.  It wasn't what had happened when he was a baby, no one was really certain what had happened then; this was them wanting to help him.  "I'd be a fool not to accept," Harry said when he was sure his voice was under control.  "There's no way I can thank you for this."

 

Anthony grinned.  "Be slow catching the Snitch against Ravenclaw; that'd be wicked."

 

"No way," Harry said, grinning back as Ron started objecting to that.  "I'm just glad no one's making me give up Quidditch this year."

 

"Actually," Hermione said as the group headed out of the Room of Requirement, "I considered suggesting that, but Ginny and Ron both threatened me, so I changed my mind."  She looked at Harry with a perfectly neutral expression, which collapsed into giggles when he stared at her in horror.  "I'm not serious," she managed to say.  "I know how much Quidditch means to you.  I don't understand it, but I do know it."

 

That night, Harry wrote another letter to Remus.  Since the full moon was in three days, he made it a long and chatty letter, thinking to give Remus something pleasant to do while recovering.  Then, after finding an unused classroom, he pulled out the mirror and called to the other universe's Sirius.  It only took a minute for his face to appear.

 

"Harry!" he said.  "It's great to see you.  It is great, isn't it?" he asked, as if suddenly realizing that things might not be great on Harry's end.

 

"Yeah," Harry said.  "Something happened today and I wanted to talk it out with someone a little more objective."  He proceeded to tell Sirius about the meeting.  "It feels like a cheat, somehow," he finished.  "Why would everyone want to help me?  I understand it of Hermione and Ron and even Luna, but why would the others want to give up their time just to help me?"

 

"Y'know, Harry," Sirius said, "if you get any more arrogant, we're going to have to find some way to deflate that head of yours."  When Harry looked at him, confused and a little insulted, Sirius shook his head.  "They want to help you because you help them.  What's one of the biggest reasons you're having trouble?"

 

"I'm involved in too much," Harry answered.  "Having Ron and Luna take over the junior DA is a huge load off me; that I understand."

 

"Got it in one," Sirius said.  "As for the rest, I suspect that they see that you're struggling to keep up while standing between them and this Voldemort character.  They may not know everything, but they know enough to know that you're trying to live up to responsibilities they won't ever see.  Placed against a few hours of tutoring, they probably feel it's the least they can do."

 

They talked a while longer and, as they talked, Harry felt himself resolving that he would stop waiting for Voldemort, but would actively begin training.  Since Sirius was encouraging him to leave things in the hands of the adults, Harry didn't bother mentioning his resolve.  He decided he would ask Snape for lessons in Defence; from everything he had seen or heard, Snape would be able to help him.  It wasn't something he could look forward to, exactly, but it was time to grow up and start fulfilling this destiny he seemed to have.

 

Two days after the full moon, Harry got a letter from Remus with the normal morning post.  Since it was long, he decided to wait until he could read the whole thing without being rushed.  It was lunchtime before he was able to read the letter in peace, or at least straight through.

 

_Harry,_

_Two letters in less than a week; I feel quite honoured.  It was nice to have something long to answer while I rested up from the moon.  The research Severus is doing with the other universe is working out very nicely; this was the easiest transformation I've ever had.  I had a bit of lie-in and was back to normal.  Even if they can't come up with a cure, which is what they're aiming for, their results will make a large difference to people  like me._

_It's quite strange to have a young man who was one of my students complaining about the things I found so annoying when I was teaching.  That, by the way, is a direct quote from Minerva after my first month of classes.  Unless you're doing more nurturing than teaching (which has its place, don't get me wrong), teaching upper level courses is more satisfying than teaching the lower levels.  Students are more interested in the subject and more willing to put in the work.  I taught to the students who were willing to work at learning the material and let the rest struggle on their own.  Getting someone else to teach the junior group is even more effective._

_As for feeling bad about getting help, don't.  None of that lot is being forced to help you.  It doesn't surprise me that your classmates, all of whom are in the senior DA if I'm not mistaken, have decided to give you a hand.  Accept their help with good grace and keep this in mind: they may feel it is the only way they can fight Voldemort.  And everyone we can get actively on our side, in whatever capacity, is one more that won't be swayed to him._

_I'm looking forward to the next time you and I can sit and talk together.  Try to stay out of trouble or, at least, don't go looking for it._

Remus__

 

**   
**


	8. You Did What?!

"I'm sorry, Harry," the school nurse told him.  "I can give you a potion for one night but there's nothing safe for you to take on a regular basis.  Everything I have either stops working or makes you sick or both."  Harry wasn't terribly surprised; it was what he had been expecting.  What he really needed, he decided as he went back to his common room, was a way to stop the dreams.  He changed direction and went to the library, hunting for books on dreaming.  He finally asked Madam Pince for help when all he could find were books on dream interpretation.  She helped him find several books on sleep and dream states.

 

In reading the books, he discovered a technique called lucid dreaming, which was about directing your dreams.  It seemed like a good idea, so he decided to give it a try that very night.

 

That night, he found himself in a hard wooden chair in a stone room.  It felt cold and damp, with bars on the window.  There was a fire in the fireplace, but it was feeble.  Kneeling on the floor before him was Lucius Malfoy.  His head was bent so all Harry could see was his hair.  He could feel himself start to speak, but decided to take control and see if he could move on his own.  He reached out his hand and stroked the head.  Once.

 

Malfoy's head snapped up in surprise.  Harry could feel the same surprise within himself.  He knew it was Voldemort's and decided to push things.  Just a little.  "Is there a problem, my dear Lucius?" he asked.  His voice was Voldemort's.  "If you're going to behave . . ."

 

Harry lost control of Voldemort's body but he remained stuck.  Voldemort wrestled him for control.  For no reason other than that he could, Harry fought back.  Months of seeing what Voldemort was doing, feeling what he was feeling, the horror of the vision the other wizard had shown him during his History of Magic OWL gave Harry a huge burst of energy.  He pulled back his hand and struck Malfoy hard with the back of his hand.  Voldemort shouted, "Get away from me, you fool!  The boy is trying to possess me!"

 

As the two continued to struggle, others entered the room.  One of the others surprised Harry, a shock he fought to hide beneath a shield of Occlumency.  He seemed to have succeeded, because Voldemort paid no more attention to Professor Snape than he did to any of the others.

 

As the Death Eaters entered the room, Harry found himself losing the battle.  He finally realized that Voldemort was able to pull on the strength of his followers, using their very essence for his own needs.  He finally became strong enough to push Harry completely out of his mind.

 

Harry sat straight up in bed, screaming.  His head felt as if it was about to burst along his scar, but he had an indescribable feeling of triumph as well.  He couldn't yet beat Voldemort, but he wasn't a helpless weakling when facing him any longer.  He had a weapon!

 

First, however, he had to calm his friends.  Neville had already run to notify the headmaster, and Dean had gone for McGonagall.  Harry debated whether or not to tell the others what had happened.  On the one hand, he trusted the other four but on the other, some of the things he had learned were best kept quiet.  When Professor McGonagall came into the room, Harry decided he wasn't going to tell the other boys anything.  He'd tell Ron later.

 

Professor McGonagall seemed to be thinking the same way.  "Follow me, Potter," she ordered him as soon as she made sure he was up to walking.  "The rest of you, go back to bed.  Yes, you, too, Weasley."  She led the way to the headmaster's office.

 

Once there, Harry told the headmaster everything he could about the dream.  At Dumbledore's request, he then wrote everything down, in as much detail as he could remember.  He had just finished this when Professor Snape walked into the room.

 

Although not especially imposing physically, Snape was one of the most menacing people Harry had ever known.  It was all in his voice, in what he said and how he said it, and in the feeling that he had access to great, dark power that could destroy you if he decided to unleash it.  Tonight, none of the menace was present.  He quietly walked into the room and sat in a chair before Dumbledore's desk.  His face was tired and lined and Harry was reminded irresistibly of Lupin.

 

"It was a bad meeting tonight?" Dumbledore asked his spy quietly.  "You weren't expecting it to be."

 

"I wasn't expecting Potter to possess the Dark Lord," Snape said.  Harry thought he was trying for his normal sneer, but he didn't seem to have the energy to maintain it.  "Successfully, I might add, if not for long.  What on earth possessed you . . ."  Snape had to stop while Harry giggled nervously.  He couldn't ever remember Snape making a joke before, even an unintentional one.  "Yes, yes, very droll, Potter.  What were you thinking to try such a thing?"

 

Dumbledore stared thoughtfully at Harry.  "Why did you possess Voldemort?"

 

"I was trying out this lucid dreaming thing I'd read about," Harry told them.  "I didn't know it'd mean I could possess him.  Did he tell everyone that's what had happened?"

 

Snape sneered at Harry, but it lacked its usual force.  "He is claiming that he was trying to plant information in your mind and you were able to resist him slightly.  That is what he claims distracted him.  None of us are entirely certain of what happened next; I believe he hit us all with multiple _Cruciatus_ curses but, frankly, I don't remember."

 

"He drew power from you," Harry realized in astonishment.  "He used your power to recover from what I did."

 

Snape and Dumbledore stared at Harry in surprise.  "What makes you think that?" Dumbledore asked.

 

"Let me," Harry started, then realized how much Snape would object to how he had been about to make his request.  "Excuse me, sir, but I'd like to see your Mark.  Would you show it to me?  To us?"

 

Snape and Dumbledore both looked startled but Snape did roll up his sleeve.  His Mark was not just dark and clear on his arm, as it usually was; it looked raw and open.  "This is how it looks," Snape said, "immediately after he gives it to you.  What do you think you know?"

 

Harry pulled his thoughts together.  He wanted to sound adult and sensible, because he didn't think they'd believe him otherwise.  "I could feel him pulling power from all of the Death Eaters," Harry told them.  "I could definitely feel it from those present, but he might be able to do so from anyone he's Marked.  I think he uses your Marks as more than just a summoning device."

 

Harry couldn't quite read the look Snape gave him.  He thought he could see respect but he could also see a wariness, a caution and even a fear that hadn't been there before.  "Most of us have suspected his Mark to be more than just an identification and a summoning tool, but he has kept the secrets of the Mark close to him."

 

Harry had another, greater concern.  "Did he give any indication he doesn't trust you, sir?" he asked Professor Snape.  "Because I was a little startled when I first saw you.  I Occluded my mind, more than before, but I don't know if it worked."

 

Snape's smile was twisted, but he didn't seem to be upset with the question.  "On the contrary, he crowed that you now knew for certain I was with him, but had no hope of ever proving it.  He did catch your surprise, but your taking Occlumency seriously this year means that he didn't catch the reason for it.  Very good, Potter.  Headmaster," he turned to Dumbledore, "I believe you and I have a great deal to discuss, both together and with the Order.  And no matter how much our 'lucid dreamer' thinks he is ready, he is still too young to be burdened with what must be discussed.  I recommend we send him to his bed, with a one night's dose of Dreamless Sleep potion, and have a long discussion with him tomorrow about why lucid dreaming while seeing through a madman's eyes is a Very Bad Idea."

 

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he surveyed both Harry and Snape.  "Only one night's dose, Severus?  One might think you'd been intimidated."

 

"Hardly," Snape answered.  His sneer was slowly returning to normal strength.  "However, it is true that that potion is dangerous if taken more than very occasionally."  Snape stood up and led Harry to the hospital wing.  When Harry started to object, Snape refused to let him say anything.  "You tried this because you are exhausted and not thinking straight because you experience his actions every night.  You need a night's rest while we endeavour to find a better solution.  And, although you've taken it before, it is a dangerous potion that should be administered by a professional and the patient should be observed while under the influence, every single time.  You deserve a restful night's sleep for the rest of the night; even I will admit you've earned it."

 

Harry was so stunned by the Potion Master's words that he meekly took the potion and climbed into the bed without a word of complaint.  The potion pulled him quickly into sleep and he spent the rest of the night in quiet, restful slumber.

 

Harry woke the next morning to discover that the Ron and Hermione had found him in the hospital wing.  He struggled to sit up, discovering as he did so that his entire body ached.  "I'll bet it didn't take you long to figure out where I was," he grumbled.

"Of course not," Hermione said.  "It was either here or Professor Dumbledore's office and it's easier to check here."

 

"Madam Pomfrey doesn't seem very upset, so I'm guessing you're not in too bad a shape," Ron said.  "How do you feel?"

 

"Sore," Harry said.  "When we can be sure no one else can hear us, I'll tell you what happened.  What time is it?  I don't want to miss any more classes than I absolutely have to."

 

"It's Saturday," Ron told him patiently.  "No classes, but you have missed breakfast.  Do you want to go to the kitchens for something, or do you want to go to the Room of Requirement to tell us what happened?"

 

Harry thought about it for a moment while he got dressed in the clothes Ron had brought.  He wasn't very hungry and he desperately wanted to talk to the two of them.  "Room of Requirement," he announced.

 

Once they were there, with the door locked and warded with half a dozen charms Hermione had found, they sat down.  Harry took a deep breath and told them everything he had seen, and done, the night before.  When he finished, there was a profound silence that stretched out.

 

Ron was the one who broke the silence.  "You possessed Voldemort and were able to, what, move his body around?"  When Harry nodded, he whistled.  "Mate, I hate to say this to you, but do you reckon this is how you can defeat him?"

 

"I don't know, but at the very least it's something else I can use against him," Harry said.  "There are some problems with it, though."

 

Hermione nodded.  "Yes, there certainly are.  I see two, no three, problems; once we start analyzing what happened, we'll probably find more.  First, it leaves you exhausted and in pain.  Second, he has the Death Eaters to draw on whereas you have only your own personal power.  Third, it's very difficult and he can and will fight."  After a moment of quiet, she pulled out a roll of parchment.  Let's make a list of what we know and what we need to find out."

 

Ron and Harry smirked at each other.  "Then let me guess where we'll go next," Ron said.

 

"The library!" both boys chorused.

 

Hermione huffed, but grinned as well.  "Where else can you do research?" she asked.  "We can start to find answers there, but we'll have to apply them.  Well, you'll have to apply them," she said quietly, looking at Harry with an expression of terrible guilt.  "We'll do whatever we can to help you, Harry; you know that, don't you?"

 

Harry smiled at the both of them.  "Of course, I know.  Why do you think I'm here?  Dumbledore and Snape took what I told them to the Order; I take it to you two.  We're all using it to fight."

 

They discussed all aspects of the dream they could think of, coming up with a long list of questions.  As soon as they walked out the door, they found themselves facing Snape.  "Amazing," he sneered at them.  "Three Gryffindors together, not out of bounds, not breaking any rules.  Or are you?"

 

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione said, quietly but firmly.  "We just finished planning a study and research session and are now headed to the library.  Completely in bounds and, well, isn't that what students are supposed to do?"

 

Snape raised an eyebrow and looked coldly at Hermione.  "Careful, Miss Granger.  That could have easily been considered impertinent.  Might I ask what class this study and research session was for?"

 

Harry glared at the man.  "Not a class.  Not that it should matter, but I was telling my two best friends about the dream I had last night.  They're helping me, erm, interpret it."

 

Snape's expression was sour.  "Wonderful.  Teenagers who think they can discover more than their elders.  Others are doing what needs to be done, Mr. Potter; you needn't concern yourself."

 

Harry thought for a minute.  He didn't want to have this discussion out in the corridor where anyone could hear.  He could still see the door to the Room of Requirement; he supposed that meant they could walk back to where they had been.  "Sir, could we speak for a moment in here?" he asked, trying to keep his voice polite.

 

Apparently, he succeeded, because although Snape sneered as he preceded Harry into the room, he did come in.  At a glance from Harry, Hermione reset the locks and wards.  "Professor, maybe the Order can do what needs to be done, but the prophecy says otherwise.  I can't afford, we can't afford, for me to ignore anything I can use to fight and defeat Voldemort.  I told Ron and Hermione the dream because they're good at helping me figure things out."

 

Snape gazed darkly at Harry for several minutes, obviously calculating what he had said.  "Let me see," he finally said, holding out his hand to Hermione.  When she looked to Harry for help, confused as to what Snape wanted, he snapped at her, "Your list of research subjects, Miss Granger.  I may be able to help you shorten the process."  Looking rather stunned, Hermione handed her list over.

 

Snape glanced down the list quickly, nodding to himself.  "You'll find nothing on the Mark in the library, except perhaps a picture of it.  You may find a little more by looking under the incantation, that's _Morsmordre_, but I wouldn't count on it.  Although Mr. Potter came up with the idea because of lucid dreaming, what occurred had little or nothing to do with dreaming; that line of research is useless."  He continued down the list, Hermione quickly scribbling down everything he said.  The comments were helpful, if stated sarcastically.

 

When he came to the end of the list, he stared but then looked at Hermione, considering.  "This last item:  soul connections.  Why would you be looking into that?"

 

Harry looked at Hermione startled; it wasn't something she had mentioned when they had been discussing what they needed to research.  He glanced over at Ron, expecting him to be as startled and confused, but found that Ron was smiling slightly and nodding.

 

"I hadn't been going to tell Harry about that until I'd done some research," Hermione admitted shame-facedly.  "It was something that Ron had mentioned.  The connection doesn't seem to be mental; it seems to be much deeper.  He had mentioned several types of soul bonds and it got me to thinking that maybe . . .  Well, I wanted to look into it, that's all."

 

Snape's eyes narrowed for a moment but then his normal sneer returned.  "That's another fruitless line of research.  I don't believe that three teenagers still in school have a hope of finding answers their elders haven't found.  However," he continued with a sour look, "I can't stop you lot from wasting your time.  We will make no allowances if you fall behind in your real classes."  He stood and swept out of the room.

 

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.  Ron looked as stunned as he felt, but Hermione seemed to be considering something.  "Did either of you two get the feeling," she asked, "that he hadn't thought about soul bonds or connections and wanted to steer us away from them?"

 

Exchanging a look with Ron, Harry realized that she was probably right.  "What do we do about it?" Ron asked.

 

"Continue on as we planned," she answered.  "With an emphasis on soul bonds and connections."

 

The three friends spent as much of their free time as they could in the library researching, but none of them had much free time at the end of the term.  Ron and Hermione had to spend a lot of time on prefect duties, between helping to decorate the castle for Christmas, keeping the increasing pranks of the other students from getting out of hand, and helping the younger students prepare for exams.

 

The Christmas holiday finally arrived.  Almost all of Gryffindor Tower would be going home; the only two exceptions were Harry and Neville.  Harry, of course, wasn't welcome at home and would be endangering himself and the Weasleys if he went with them to the Burrow.  Neville's grandmother had been ill all autumn; he had suggested he stay at Hogwarts to allow her more peace and quiet.  In gratitude for his understanding, she had sent an amazing number of gifts and snacks.  Ron had been willing to stay to keep the other two boys company; however, his parents had insisted he come home this year.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's reconciliation with Percy, and the fact that Charlie was in England for the holiday this year, meant they would be able to have the entire family at home for Christmas.  Ron was obviously torn.  On the one hand, Christmas would be much more fun at the Burrow, even with Percy; however, on the other hand, he felt as if he were abandoning Harry.  It was something of a relief when the Hogwarts Express finally left with Ron firmly on it.

 

Harry had asked Ron to see if he could get any information from Percy on Azkaban.  The fact that no one had reported anything about the transfer to Voldemort worried Harry terribly.  None of the professors would discuss the subject with him and, when he wrote to Lupin, he was told it wasn't a subject for letters.  He was just going to have to wait.

 

Later that night, Harry heard Sirius's voice in the mirror.  When he went over to pick it up, Sirius was grinning at him.  "Somebody has apparently been dying to talk to you about a hundred different things," he said.  "And you wouldn't believe the amount of parchment he wants to send through."

 

"Who?" Harry asked.

 

"Your doppelganger," Sirius said.  He stepped out of the mirror and the other Harry stepped in.  Harry could see Neville trying to look into the mirror without Harry noticing, he waved Neville over so he could see properly.

 

"Mate, you are a cruel, cruel man," his counterpart said, shaking his head.  "Why didn't you tell me Hermione's as good at snogging as she is everything else?"

 

"I didn't know," Harry said, "and I never planned on finding out.  You've kissed Hermione?"

 

Harry could hear Sirius's sniggers as his counterpart answered, "Yes, I most certainly have.  And I plan on continuing to do so as often as she'll let me.  With the way you talked about her, I was sure you fancied her; I suppose I was wrong."  The other boy shrugged.  "She's also very determined to help you defeat old Tommy; well, so am I.  Do you know what that girl did?"  Before Harry could shake his head, the other boy went on, "She talked Professor Dumbledore into an unlimited pass to the Restricted Section in the library; Madam Pince practically accused him of being an impostor taking Polyjuice.  As if that stuff'd really fool anyone."

 

Harry smirked.  "It will.  Fooled Malfoy into thinking Ron and I were Crabbe and Goyle.  Too bad he didn't know the information we were looking for."

 

Harry's counterpart goggled and Harry could hear Sirius choking in the background.  "Oh.  Well, I have notes from Hermione with everything, and I do mean everything, she's found out.  She got some details about the ritual Tommy killed himself with.  I'm really, really glad he failed in this universe; if he managed to make it work in yours, he is one nasty piece of work.  She's also looked up everything about love as a power in magic; there's actually quite a bit on that.  Some of what you need to make the most powerful spells in that group work is . . . "  The other Harry trailed off.  "Never mind that.  She's also written out some things for you to try and some questions she wants you to answer.  She'd love to do more research on all of this, but she needs more information to do it."

 

Harry looked at the stack he could see next to his counterpart.  It was dauntingly tall and he didn't want to think about how long it would take him to get through the stack.  "Er, tell her how much I appreciate her hard work," he finally said.

 

His counterpart smirked at him.  "Yeah, that'd be my reaction, too.  Does she have a boyfriend?  You ought to ask her out.  She's a terrific girlfriend."

 

Harry shook his head, imagining Ron's reaction to his asking Hermione out.  "No, I think she likes Ron," he finally said.  He could see Neville trying to snigger quietly in the corner of his eye.

 

His counterpart nodded.  "Is that Neville there with you?" he asked.  "Do you think I could talk to him?  It'd be cool to tell Neville I talked with his counterpart."

 

Harry glanced over at Neville, who looked fascinated with the concept.  He handed the mirror over to the other boy and sat still, thinking over the implications.  He could hear the other two talking, but his mind was really on the information Hermione had gleaned from the library.  Voldemort had apparently cast a difficult, dangerous spell, probably to gain immortality, which had gone so badly wrong in the other world that it had killed him.  Did the fact that it had worked in this universe mean that the dark wizard truly was immortal, or was there a possibility of finding a weakness to exploit?  Realistically, Harry knew it was likely to be the former, but the latter possibility was a very heady thought.  He discovered he really wanted to be going through that pile of parchment.  Interrupting Neville for a moment, he asked him to ask his counterpart to start sending the notes through as soon as they finished their chat.

 

A little later, Neville carefully set the mirror on Harry's bedside table and sat next to him.  "Now I know why they've been running those tests on me," he said to Harry.  "I thought they thought I just wasn't trying hard enough, but they think something might be wrong, don't they?  Something they can fix."

 

"I think that's what they're hoping for," Harry confirmed.  "Pretty mad, huh, seeing how one person can change things?"

 

"It really makes me think of what I can do to change things," Neville agreed.  "Especially with what you told me earlier this year; that if he'd chosen me to go after first, I'd be the Boy Who Lived."  After sitting for a bit in a companionable silence, Neville laid his hand on Harry's shoulder.  "If you ever need anything, Harry, let me know."  After another minute, he grinned.  "So, you're not interested in Hermione, huh?  Think I should tell her that?  Or that you're waiting for Ron the Thick to make his move?" 

 

Harry did the only thing possible.  He grabbed his pillow and hit Neville over the head with it.  Neville _Accioed_ his pillow over and the two of them began a huge pillow fight over the entire dorm.  When they finally called a truce and went to bed, Harry found himself falling asleep with a huge smile on his face.

 

The next morning, Harry found the stack of parchment that had come through the mirror had fallen in the night and was all over the floor around his bedside table.  Sighing, he picked up the scattered pages and started reading through it.  There was a good bit he thought he would need Hermione to help him decipher, especially the bits about love as a magical power, but what he found especially interesting was the information on how Tom Riddle in the alternate universe died.  He had been trying to perfect and cast a spell that would enable him to stay alive by loosening the hold his soul had on his body.  In theory, it would have enabled him to leave his body for another at his death.  After considering it, Harry copied the pages with the spell Dumbledore had taught him that summer and sent the headmaster one copy. 

 

Thinking to get as much help from his counterpart and his friends, Harry wrote up all the notes they had put together from his trip into Voldemort's mind.  While they were being sent, he owled a letter to Hermione asking if she could think of anything else they should send. 

 

Christmas day dawned bleak and snowy.  Neville and Harry opened their gifts together and spent the rest of the day talking quietly.  That changed the next day.

 

The _Daily Prophet_ that morning had DARK MARK SIGHTED; FOUR DEAD, FIVE KISSED screaming across the front page.  Harry and Neville read the article thoroughly, but the only real additional information was that it had happened nearly two hundred miles north of London.  Neither of them recognized the names of the victims; three of them had been Muggles.  The day passed slowly; the two of them tried to keep themselves occupied with chess or Gobstones, but neither of them could stop thinking about the attack.

 

After a restless night's sleep, Harry went looking for Snape.  He found him in his office, apparently marking exams and essays.  When he knocked and walked in, Snape looked up at him tiredly.  "Did you see anything about the attacks?"

 

"No, sir," Harry answered, "but that is why I'm here."  Harry took a deep breath to steel himself for what he wanted to ask.  "You've been helping me learn Occlumency, but it's not enough.  Vol-, er, Riddle will keep coming after me and I'll have to fight him.  I need to learn more than defence.  I need to learn how to attack him."

 

Snape looked at him for several minutes before he finally answered.  "The kind of training you want, Potter, is outside what students are taught here.  I will have to discuss the possibility with the Headmaster.  If I get his approval and agree to teach you, you must take it seriously and listen.  Do you understand?"

 

Harry nodded, his mind on the five people who'd been Kissed.  Snape regarded him thoughtfully.  "I'll consider it.  You're dismissed."

 

Three days later, Harry was summoned to Dumbledore's office.  After offering tea, biscuits and sweets, Dumbledore asked Harry, "Are you certain you wish to add these additional lessons on top of what you're already handling?  What will give if something must?"

 

Harry sighed.  "I'm not sure.  Probably either the DA or Quidditch.  I'm going to try very hard not to have to give up anything."

 

The Headmaster nodded.  "I've given Professor Snape approval to give you the lessons you've requested.  Please, don't make me regret it."

 

Harry nodded quietly and went straight to Snape's office.  When he wasn't there, he tried the Potions classroom.  Snape was there, straightening out the supplies cupboard.  "I just spoke to Professor Dumbledore, sir.  He said he would approve the lessons."

 

Snape nodded and stepped away from the cupboard.  "I have several duties which I cannot put aside for now.  We will begin once term recommences.  Read that book there and be ready to put it into practice."  He indicated a book on one of the desks, _Battle Magicks and Techniques_. 

 

Harry picked up the book and nodded.  "Yes, sir.  I will be as prepared as I can be."

 

"See that you are," Snape said as he turned back to the cupboard.

**   
**


	9. Consequences

The morning after New Year's Day, Harry went to the Potions classroom immediately after breakfast.  Snape was there and, after glaring at Harry, led the way to a room deep in the dungeons.  It was a peculiar room, its stone walls completely bare but with many doors in all of the walls. 

 

"What is this room, sir?" Harry asked.

 

"It's a training room," Snape answered.  "It is specifically designed to shield the rest of the castle from any spells cast within its walls.  There is nothing in it except what we bring or what we remove from the cupboards around it.  It was designed to train . . . wizards with more power than control, how to channel their magic.  Since you have no control, it is perfect."

 

Harry decided to prove Snape wrong.  He began breathing deeply and slowly, nearly putting himself into a trance, something he'd learned how to do by reading about Occlumency.  After several minutes of this, Snape's eyes narrowed.  He walked behind Harry and stood still for a bit.  Harry continued what he was doing until he heard a rustle of cloth behind him.  He whirled around and dove, his wand out ready to cast a shield.  Snape's _Petrificus Totalus_ missed him by over a foot and Harry had his shield up before Snape could cast anything else.  After staring at Harry for a minute, Snape lifted his wand and said, "Hold."  Harry dropped his shield and stood, keeping his wand up and ready for anything.  That caution brought a sour smile to Snape's face.  "Not bad, Potter.  Apparently, you've been listening to Moody.  Your battle trance is . . . Where'd you learn it?"

 

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked.  "I was just trying not to let you get me; the breathing was recommended by one of my Occlumency books to stay calm."

 

Snape stared but didn't say anything.  "How far did you get in the text I gave you?"

 

"I've read it all the way through quickly.  I'm on chapter three in my second read-through," Harry said.

 

Snape looked at him thoughtfully.  Then, without any warning, he cast a curse directly at Harry.  Harry didn't recognize it but remembered a general shield, more powerful than _Protego_, which should stop it.  It did, but left Harry off-balance, easy prey for Snape's follow-up.  They duelled like that for an hour.  When Snape finally called, "Hold!" both of them were sweating, breathing hard and in pain from the curses that had defeated their shields.  "Take out parchment and a quill," Snape said.  When Harry had done so, he gave a full evaluation of Harry's performance.  It wasn't as bad as Harry would have expected; Snape acknowledged his studying and didn't bother insulting him.  He then gave him several curses and shields to learn by the next morning.  "We'll take full advantage of the fact that the castle is nearly empty.  We won't be able to get in much time when classes begin," he finished.

 

Harry nodded.  "Thank you, sir," he said as he knelt down to collect his bag.

 

Snape was almost out the door when he suddenly stopped and gave Harry a piercing look.  "Ask Madam Pomfrey for something for sore muscles.  We won't be able to give your muscles a break and it will get worse before it gets better."  He swept out of the room.

 

Harry hobbled up to the Hospital Wing and made his request to Madam Pomfrey.  She tutted but gave him two potions, one to drink and another to pour into a hot bath.  Since that sounded heavenly to him, he went straight to the bath.

 

This marked the pattern for the rest of the week.  Snape and Harry would duel first thing in the morning, and then, after soaking in the bath for a bit, Harry would work on his holiday homework and go through through the stack of parchment the other Hermione had sent.  He cleared his mind and practiced Occlumency at night and, whether it was because of his exhaustion or because he was better at it, his sleep was sound and peaceful.

 

The rest of the students returned on Sunday and the castle seemed to shrink and grow almost unbearably noisy.  Although Harry had enjoyed the peace of the holiday, he was happy to see his friends return.  As soon as he saw Ron and Hermione, he told them he needed to speak to them privately.  Ron nodded eagerly, but Hermione seemed troubled.  When Harry asked her what was wrong, she shook her head and looked away.  "It's nothing for you to worry about," she said, when it became obvious he wasn't going to drop the subject.  "My parents are very upset.  They're getting the _Daily Prophet_ now and the reports on the attacks are terrifying.  They know they can't protect themselves and they're scared I can't protect myself."

 

"Isn't there some way we can get protection for them?" Harry asked as he thought about possibilities.

 

"There are Aurors being assigned to protect all Muggle-born students' families, but I don't see how it can be enough," Hermione said.  "There's too many people to guard and not enough people to do it.  I don't know what to do."  Harry could now see the dark shadows under her eyes.

 

"We'll all do everything we can," Ron said as Harry tried to come up with something comforting to say.  "The Order has wards up on any household they think is at risk; your parents are near the top of the list."  Harry's stomach twisted as he realized that the reason Hermione's parents were in danger was because she was his friend.  "If we get any signs that there's trouble, we'll make sure your parents are safe.  Okay?"  Ron's face looked hopeful that Hermione would take the reassurance at face value, but Harry didn't know how much good it would do.

 

Hermione gave both boys a watery smile, and then took a deep breath, shook herself and asked in a more normal voice, "Let's go to the Room of Requirement so you can tell us this news."

 

While they walked, Harry asked Ron, "How are things with Percy?"

 

"It's hard," Ron answered.  "It's good to have everyone together, but what he did to Mum and Dad . . . It's hard."  He smiled.  "Mum was really happy, at least, so that's good."

 

The Room of Requirement gave them a miniature common room, with squashy armchairs and a roaring fire.  All three of them smiled when they saw this.  After they were seated, Harry told them everything he'd learned over the holidays-the research Hermione's counterpart had been doing and the combat magic Snape was teaching him.  "That sounds wonderful," Hermione said, reading over the parchments her counterpart had sent through the mirror.  "Did anything else happen?"

 

A spark of mischief prompted Harry to add, "My counterpart advised me to kiss you; he says it's brilliant."  He smiled at Hermione.

 

She sputtered, obviously unable to come up with anything to say, but Ron exploded.  "You'll do no such thing.  What are you thinking of?" he demanded, his ears bright red and his face quite ugly.

 

"You have no right to say anything like that," Hermione yelled back at him.  "It's not like you're my boyfriend.  You're my friend and I can kiss anyone I want to."  Seeming determined to prove this, she grabbed Harry by the sides of his face and kissed him.

 

It was better than kissing Cho, Harry thought dazedly.  It was even better than kissing Luna.  Just as Harry was thinking he might open his mouth to thoroughly enjoy the kiss, he heard Ron say plaintively, "How can you kiss him when you know I love you?"

 

Hermione pulled back from Harry, an apology in her eyes.  Harry did his best to smile cheerfully at her.  He had known all along that it was Ron Hermione fancied, but that kiss had awakened a longing in him he hadn't expected.  Then Hermione turned to Ron, her hands on her hips and said, "How am I supposed to know that, Ron?  You've never said anything."

 

Ron's mouth opened and closed several times before he finally said, "I'm saying it now.  I think I fell in love with you when you told me I had dirt on my nose.  On the train when we first came to Hogwarts," he added when Hermione looked puzzled.  When Ron folded her into his arms and stared at her, Harry quietly stood up and left.  It hurt, more than it should have, but he knew it was better this way.  If her parents were at risk because she was one of his best friends, how much worse would it be if she were his girlfriend?  Having no desire to sit in the common room and answer his housemates' questions, he went straight to his dormitory and bed.

 

Harry was still awake when Ron came into the dormitory several hours later.  When Ron whispered his name, Harry sat up and said, "I'm still awake."

 

"Are you okay, mate?" Ron asked, looking guilty.  "I . . . er . . . "

 

Harry took pity on his best and oldest friend.  "It's true about my counterpart and the Hermione in his universe, but I knew how you felt about her.  It's okay."

 

"You're sure?" Ron asked.  "We don't want to hurt you.  Hermione's feeling awful about using you the way she did.  I just couldn't take seeing her kiss anyone else.  Whenever I think about the future, with a family and job and stuff, it's Hermione I see with me."  He looked as if he was ready to go into a detailed description of what he could see.  It was a description Harry didn't want to hear.  It wasn't that he didn't want Ron and Hermione to be happy-he did, both of them-it was just that he couldn't see himself with a home and family and future.  Ever since he had heard the prophecy, he had had this awful feeling that he wouldn't survive, that the best he could do was to kill Voldemort before he was killed.  He knew better than to say anything to Ron; his friend would lose his temper and that was an argument Harry didn't want to have.

 

Finally, he shook his head.  "No, I'm not hurt."  He was able to smile and, judging from Ron's reaction, it was a normal one.  "I was hoping that you'd finally get the idea.  Y'know, Neville was calling you Ron the Thick?"

 

"Arrgh," Ron groaned, flopping back on his bed.  "Would you please tell me the next time I can't see what everybody else can?"  When Harry nodded, Ron stood up to go back down the stairs.  "I promised Hermione I'd let her know how you're doing.  Are you sure you're all right?" Ron asked again, looking worried again.

 

"I'm positive.  Now, go down and tell her before she comes up here to check on me herself," Harry said.  His smile and voice were enough to convince Ron; his friend walked back out of the dorm with a huge grin on his face.

 

It took a long time for Harry to fall asleep that night.

 

Their first class the next morning was Potions.  Harry walked to the dungeons with Ron and Hermione, listening rather wistfully to their happy chatter.  They were waiting in the queue for Snape to open the classroom door when Malfoy walked by, looking as if he owned the world.  As he walked up to the Gryffindors, Harry's scar first prickled and then felt as if it would burst open in agony.  He clutched the scar, doing his best not to let Malfoy know how much pain he was in.  He lost the fight just as Snape stalked up to open the classroom.  Seeing Harry on the floor, moaning in agony and clutching his scar, Snape said abruptly to the rest of the class, "What are you waiting for?  Giving Potter even more attention is hardly appropriate.  Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, and a detention to be served tonight.  Up you go to the Hospital Wing.  No, Weasley," Snape continued, "I scarcely think he needs help to walk up the stairs.  I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has his regular bed ready for him."  Harry could hear Snape scribbling something on a piece of parchment.  He handed it to Harry, who held it without even looking at it.  "Move," he said, as he strode into the classroom and shut the door.

 

As soon as the door closed, the pain in Harry's scar eased.  He was able to concentrate enough to Occlude, which eliminated the rest of the pain.  He stood shakily and looked down at the note Snape had given him.  It was pretty crumpled, but Harry could still read what it said.  _"Don't bother with Pomfrey.  Go straight to the Headmaster and tell him precisely what happened.  The password is Canary Creams."_

 

Harry followed his instructions and found Dumbledore in his office.  He handed Snape's note to the Headmaster and explained what had happened.  When he was finished, Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments.  Then he asked, "You believe it was Mr. Malfoy's presence that caused the pain in your scar?  Do you have any idea as to why this should be?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "It felt nearly as strong as it did in the Department of Mysteries," he told the Headmaster.  "Could he have been marked over the holidays?" Harry asked.  "The word around Slytherin is that Voldemort is grooming him for something."

 

Dumbledore shook his head.  "As far as I've heard, Voldemort is not yet Marking students.  In fact, I believe that the Marking cannot be done on someone who is underage."

 

Harry sat quietly for a minute.  "Do you know when Malfoy's birthday is?"

 

"Middle of June," came the quiet answer.  Harry continued contemplating the information he had.  He knew something had happened and that it had to do with both Voldemort and Malfoy, but he wasn't sure what it was.

 

After a while, Snape strode into the office.  "Good.  You didn't leave.  Now, what on earth happened?"

 

Harry repeated what he'd told the Headmaster.  "Do you know what Voldemort wants with him, sir?  Has he been Marked early?"

 

"He hasn't been Marked," Snape said.  "The Dark Lord does have some special use for him but it's being kept very secret.  Even his parents know no more than that he's been chosen for some special honour; only Bellatrix is in the Dark Lord's confidence for this.  One thing that is interesting," he continued, "is that the Dark Lord advised them this summer to get Narcissa pregnant, and to do what it took for the child to be a boy."

 

"That can be done?" Harry asked.

 

"Of course," Snape said, smirking.  "The spells are Dark, so they're not used much, but it really isn't that difficult.  At any rate, Narcissa is pregnant, with a boy, and the child is due at the end of May."

 

"It sounds," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "as though whatever Voldemort has in mind will prevent Draco from being the Malfoy heir."

 

"Either that," Snape agreed, "or they're planning for one to be the Malfoy heir and one to be the Black heir.  I don't know and I don't dare poke around too much.  If it weren't that both Narcissa and Lucius feel I'm thoroughly loyal to them, I wouldn't even know that much."  Snape sighed, his mouth twisting.  "I had hoped to be able to convince Draco not to join the Dark Lord but, with this new development, I have no hope of that now." 

 

Harry realized that, however he felt about Malfoy, Snape felt he was worth saving.  Harry decided it was best not to argue the point.  "Do you have any idea why my scar hurt?" he asked instead.

 

Snape shook his head.  "None.  Incidentally, I was able to confirm that there was a fourth ritual over the holidays.  If I'm correct, there will be three more, and a fourth to complete whatever it is."  At Harry's question, Snape rolled his eyes.  "He's using the additional power of the calendar."  When Harry still looked puzzled, he muttered something about the abysmal standards of the school and then said, "He's using the additional power of the Quarter and Cross-Quarter days.  Since the first ritual was in August, on Lammas, I suspect the last one will be in June, on Midsummer's Night.  Did you have any strange reactions to Draco after November?" he suddenly asked Harry.

 

"No," Harry shook his head.  "And this is the first time since the holidays that I've seen him.  Any ideas?"

 

"I believe we will have to research possibilities," Dumbledore answered.  "For now, we know too little to make guesses.  What class should you be in now?"

 

"Defence.  I should probably at least go to the Hospital Wing so Madam Pomfrey knows I was supposed to be there," Harry said.  Dumbledore nodded and wrote a note for the school's nurse.

 

That evening in the Great Hall, as Harry was telling Ron and Hermione everything that had happened, Luna Lovegood drifted over to their table.  "Harry, may I speak with you for a moment?"

 

When Harry nodded, Hermione asked politely, "Would you like Ron and me to leave?"

 

Luna shook her head.  "That's not necessary.  My father's been hearing bits and pieces of what happened in detentions with Professor Umbridge last year and wondered if you'd give him an interview."

 

Harry stared at her, feeling stunned.  "Erm, does he want me to do an interview like what I did last year or does he just want to confirm what happened?"

 

"Both."

 

"I promised the Headmaster I wouldn't say anything negative about the Minister without thinking it over carefully and talking it over with a responsible adult," Harry said slowly.  "I need some time and the answer may still be 'No'."

 

"That sounds reasonable," Luna said.  "Daddy may go with what he already has, but I'm sure he'd like to hear what you have to say.  If you won't give him the initial story, will you confirm what happened?"

 

"I think so," Harry said.  "I need to think about it."

 

After Luna left, Hermione turned to Harry and hissed, "Why did you promise not to say anything negative about Fudge?  He's an idiot and he's dangerous."

 

"Because if Fudge is ousted, we don't know who will take over," Ron answered her.  "There's no guarantee his successor would be a member of the Order.  It could just as easily be a Death Eater, or one of their sympathisers."  When Harry and Hermione both stared at him in surprise, Ron shrugged.  "I listen to Dad.  When he's not talking about Muggles, he's pretty sensible."

 

After Harry served his detention with Professor Snape, which turned out to be a simple make-up of the day's work, Harry returned to his dorm.  He had a Transfiguration essay to do and Charms to practice, but he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate while thinking about Luna's question.  He wrote a quick letter to Remus, explaining what happened and asking for advice.  Before he was finished, two first-years and five second-years came to him for help with their Defence work.  Since the Transfiguration essay wasn't due until next week, Harry practiced the Charms they were currently studying and went to bed.

 

Harry received a short note from Remus the next morning at breakfast.  Remus gave no definite advice in the letter, but told Harry he had set up a meeting in Dumbledore's office that evening at seven o'clock.

 

That evening, Harry discovered that the meeting wasn't just Remus and Dumbledore.  Professor McGonagall was also there.  "Remus, you asked for this meeting.  May I ask what it's about?"

 

Remus said, "Last year, Dolores Umbridge used a Blood Quill on at least two students and almost certainly more.  Matthew Lovegood of _The Quibbler_ has got wind of it and is trying to get information together.  We may not want to destabilize Fudge, but this is more than we should sit on."

 

Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon glasses.  "I assume you were one of the students?"  When Harry nodded, Dumbledore asked, "Why didn't you say anything?"

 

Harry shrugged.  "At first it was because I didn't want to give in to Um, er, Professor Umbridge.  Then, I thought if I told any of the teachers, she'd sack them.  I didn't want that to happen."

 

Remus looked pained while McGonagall looked furious.  "It is hardly your responsibility as a student to concern yourself with our positions.  You are the child; we are the adults.  If an adult is abusing you, you're to go to a teacher or other adult.  How could you think we would have allowed this to continue?"

 

Harry sighed, wishing they'd get the point.  "Of course I knew you, any of you, would do what you could to stop it.  But there were all kinds of things she was able to do that none of you could stop.  I especially knew Professor McGonagall would tell her off.  Fudge was determined to take over the school and I didn't want to give either of them any help."

 

"First," Dumbledore said after thinking for a few minutes, "we need to find out to whom Professor Umbridge gave detention.  Then, we need to interview all of those students to see which ones used the Blood Quill.  I find it hard to believe that, if a large number of students were forced to use one, they wouldn't tell their parents."

 

"None of the Muggle-borns would know what it means," Harry said.  "Their parents wouldn't either.  And, well, things here are very different than they are in Muggle schools; they might not realize how wrong a wizard would think it was."

 

"Add to that," Remus said, "that even those students who understood what they were would be uncomfortable at best telling their parents.  As with most abuse, its victims conspire to keep the silence."

 

"On that note," the Headmaster nodded, "I think you should give the interview.  If there are any conditions you need to feel comfortable, you should request them, but I believe it best to take this into the public eye."

 

"You should advise your interviewer to go to the Headmaster for a comment," Remus said.  "That way he won't look as if he were trying to hide anything."

 

Harry nodded, trying to remember where he'd be most likely to find Luna at this time of night.  "Is there anything more?" he asked.  "Because if there isn't, I'd like to track Luna down now."

 

Harry found Luna in the library.  "Luna, I've thought about it.  I'll do the interview on two conditions.  The story can't twist my words to make it look like I'm saying something different than I am and they have to ask Dumbledore for a comment and print it.  All of it.  D'you think your dad would agree to that?"

 

"Of course," Luna said.  "Daddy only wants to print the truth.  I'll write to him tonight; he'll be very happy."  She smiled at Harry.  "Did you know I've started dating Terry Boot?"

 

"Yeah?" Harry sat down next to her.  "How's that going?"

 

"Very nicely.  There's lots of sparks when he kisses me."  Her eyes were dreamier and farther away even than normal, but then she gave him a penetrating look.  "And you?"

 

"I don't know," Harry sighed.  "I barely have time to sleep and eat, much less start dating someone.  I don't even know who I'd want to ask."  Even though who was with whom was one of the main topics of conversation in his year, Harry couldn't seem to get excited about the subject.  He liked girls, he really liked kissing girls, but he couldn't see himself . . .  "I guess I wonder why I should date anyone," he said, not even realizing he was talking out loud.  "If Voldemort finds out there's some girl I'm in love with, he'll kill her.  Or worse."

 

"Which girl are you closest to?"

 

"What?"  Harry realized that he was still talking to Luna.  "Oh, er, Hermione, I reckon."

 

"I think Ron would object to that," Luna said, smiling.  "Next."

 

"You.  Ginny."  Harry thought for several minutes.  "Maybe Susan or Parvati.  It's been a long time since I really thought about it."

 

Luna nodded and looked up.  "Oh, there's Terry; we're supposed to study together.  OWLs, you know."  She stood up, but then leaned down and kissed Harry's cheek.  "I'll see what I can do."

 

Harry watched her greet Terry feeling more than a little alarmed.  Hadn't she listened to a word he said?  Then he shook his head.  If he didn't ask any girls out, everything would be fine; he wouldn't need to worry about it.

 

The next day, Luna told him that her father would send a reporter to the school on Saturday.  The rest of the week passed slowly.  Harry was kept busy but found he was more able to juggle everything in his crowded schedule.  He mentioned this to Hermione while they were studying in the library and she smiled at him.  "You're just getting more efficient.  And I think you're listening to me more," she said, teasing him.

 

"You're just happier because you spend all your prefect rounds snogging Ron," Harry teased back.

 

"We do not," Hermione said, shocked.  "We only snog after our rounds are done.  The fact that we're more efficient at making them is just a coincidence."

 

"Oi," Ron said, having just finished with his DA group, "you're going to make me jealous, sitting there with my girlfriend, Potter."

 

"That's the whole point," Hermione said.  She smiled and the two of them gazed at each other, blocking out the rest of the world.  When Harry got up, neither of them noticed.

 

 "Too sweet for you, too?" Ginny asked when he sat down next to her.

 

"Just . . . I feel like I don't belong there when they're doing that," Harry said.  He knew a lot of people were waiting for him to get angry or start feeling abandoned now that Ron and Hermione were a couple.  He didn't think it was going to happen.  Seeing the two of them together felt . . . right.  Safe.  He said this to Ginny, who laughed.

 

"It certainly makes life a lot quieter.  Ron was horrible all Christmas holiday because he didn't hear from her once.  She was a real terror on the train coming back.  Face it, Harry; they've been bickering together for over five years.  Don't they sound like an old married couple?"  Ginny rolled her eyes, but she was also grinning.

 

"Actually," Harry said, "they sound a lot like your parents."

 

"Not such bad role models, wouldn't you say?"

 

Harry nodded, laughing with her.  They both went back to their studying, Harry feeling calmer than he had in a long time.

 

At breakfast on Saturday, Professor McGonagall came up to Harry in the Great Hall.  "Mr. Potter, as soon as you're finished your breakfast, please come to my office.  And don't dawdle."

 

Harry was unsurprised to see Rita Skeeter in McGonagall's office, but he was surprised to see her photographer.  "Why is he here?" he asked.

 

"They want a photograph of the marks left by the Quill," she said calmly.  "I have agreed to allow Ms. Skeeter to conduct her interview here; however, it will be done in my presence as Harry's Head of House.  Isn't that right?"

 

Rita nodded, but asked Harry, "Is that all right with you, Harry?  If you would be more comfortable with someone else or with no one, we can meet elsewhere."

 

Harry shook his head.  "I'm fine with Professor McGonagall being here."

 

"Good," McGonagall said.  "Potter, a word.  In private," she added when Rita didn't move.

 

As soon as the reporter and photographer left, Professor McGonagall turned to Harry.  "Between the interview you gave last year and the subject of this one, it occurred to us that the interview may involve matters concerning the Order.  We thought it best you understand what is and is not acceptable to say."  When Harry nodded, McGonagall smiled thinly.  "It's actually quite simple.  You can say whatever you want about Order members who are dead.  That includes Sirius and your parents.  You may mention the Order and its goals.  You are not to say anything about current members, including Professor Dumbledore, and you are not to discuss what you know of its workings.  Can you do that?"

 

Harry nodded.  After a moment of thought, he asked, "Can I say it was members of the Order who rescued me from the Department of Mysteries?  Or that we were trying to get in touch with a member of the Order that night?  If you think Rita will want information on the Department of Mysteries, those are the kinds of things she'll ask."

 

"I would prefer you say as little about that night as possible.  I would also prefer you not state publicly that you are in contact with the Order.  It's safer, for you and for us, if that is left implied rather than stated."

 

"I'll do my best," Harry said.  McGonagall opened the door and asked Rita and her photographer to come in.

 

This interview wasn't nearly as emotional as the one he gave about the events after the Triwizard Tournament.  The photographer took several pictures of the back of Harry's hand and left.  Rita had Harry describe exactly how the quill worked and why Umbridge had him using it.  He also described her classes and how little they learned.  During that part of the interview, Professor McGonagall scowled.  Rita picked up on that and asked her for her opinions on Professor Umbridge's teaching techniques.

 

"I won't speak poorly of a fellow teacher to the press," McGonagall said.  "All of us have our faults and they have a way of coming back to us.  What I will say is that, on the Defence Against the Dark Arts OWLs and NEWTs for last year, only those students that had outside tutoring did at all well on them.  You can check that information with the Ministry.  I will also state, for the record, that no staff member of this school had any idea what was happening in her detentions.  When we were finally informed," here her exasperation at Harry clearly showed, "we began a comprehensive investigation.  In fact, we are investigating all detentions served during the last school year."

 

"That's for the record?" Rita confirmed, her eyes blazing with excitement.  After McGonagall nodded, Rita turned back to Harry.  "Did she do anything else that could be considered abusive while she was here at Hogwarts?"

 

"She threatened me with _Cruciatus_ and . . ."

 

"What?!" Professor McGonagall interrupted.  "Potter, why didn't you say anything about this?  We could have had her sacked."

 

"It was that night," Harry said quietly.  "None of us were telling her why we'd broken into her office to use her Floo, so she thought that might make me tell."  Harry broke off and told Rita, "We were breaking the rules pretty badly."

 

"Why was it necessary?" Rita asked.

 

McGonagall's lips were very thin and there were two spots of red on her cheeks.  Harry looked at her nervously.  "I was told, I can't tell you how, that my godfather was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries.  I was trying to get in touch with someone who could help me rescue him.  I couldn't and I went after him myself."  Feeling awful, Harry continued in a hoarse whisper, "He was killed.  By Bellatrix Lestrange."

 

"You were in the Department of Mysteries the night You-Know-Who was seen?  Can you tell me what happened?"  Rita was leaning forward avidly, quill at the ready.

 

Harry shook his head.  "Too many other people are involved and it would be dangerous."

 

Rita slumped back, disappointed.  "Oh, well.  Can you confirm the existence of the Order of the Phoenix?"

 

"I can, but not much more," Harry said.

 

Rita thought for a minute, looking over her notes.  "What is its purpose?"

 

"To fight Voldemort, er, Tom Riddle."

 

"Who?"

 

"Tom Riddle is the name You-Know-Who was born with," Harry said.  "He changed it because he hated the link with his father.  His father was a Muggle who abandoned Voldemort and his mother when he found out she was a witch.  Riddle grew up in an orphanage."

 

"Is that true?" Rita asked, wide-eyed.  Both Harry and Professor McGonagall nodded.  After a minute of stunned silence on her part, Rita asked, "Who's in the Order?"

 

"I, erm, I don't know," Harry lied.  "I know my parents were in it, and Sirius Black, but I don't know who's in it today."

 

Rita rolled her eyes at Harry.  "Too bad.  That would have been some story."  Harry shrugged.  After a thorough review of her notes, she asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

 

"At first, it was just pride.  I didn't want to let Umbridge get to me," Harry admitted, feeling incredibly stupid.  "Later, I reckoned she'd have Fudge issue another Ministry Decree and she'd sack whomever I told."

 

"In other words," Rita summarized, "she was misusing her power over the school and her connection to Fudge to get exactly what she wanted done, right?"

 

Harry thought it over for a minute.  "Yeah, I'd agree with that."

 

"Last question."  Rita smiled when Harry heaved a sigh of relief.  "Do you know of any other times that Dolores Umbridge has abused her authority as a member of Cornelius Fudge's office?  And did he know of any of this?"

 

"I know she told two Dementors to attack me at my home the summer before last." 

 

Harry had been going to continue, but Professor McGonagall let out an outraged "What?!"

 

"She admitted it that night in her office," Harry said.  McGonagall closed her eyes and pursed her lips, shaking her head.  Before she could say anything else, he answered Rita's last question, "I don't know if Fudge knew about any of it.  He knew about the Decrees, of course, but I think Professor Umbridge was trying to help him without getting him into trouble."

 

Professor McGonagall glared at Harry, but her voice was calm as she asked, "Do you have any more questions for Mr. Potter, Ms. Skeeter?"  After seeing Harry shake his head, McGonagall said, "You may go."  As Harry closed the door, he could hear Rita asking McGonagall a question about Umbridge's time as Headmistress.

 

The next few weeks were quieter.  Harry got into the habit of performing Occlumency as soon as he left the Tower every day.  It helped; his scar no longer hurt but he could feel a kind of pressure when he was near Malfoy.

 

Harry was finding something interesting about his class work.  Although the material was more difficult and the teachers were assigning more homework, Harry was having less trouble understanding difficult concepts and was able to get his work done more quickly.  When he mentioned this to Ron and Hermione, they both looked at him as though he'd gone mad, so he didn't say anything more to them on the subject.

 

Luna told him that Rita Skeeter had told her father that, if he allowed her to do a full investigation, the resulting story would be huge.  "I thought it was just about Umbridge's detentions," she said.  He gave her a summary of what had been discussed; he reckoned Rita wanted to see if she could get any other dirt.

 

There was little in the news about any further attacks by Voldemort, Death Eaters or Dementors.  Although things were calm, there was a feeling in the air that something big was about to happen.

 

**   
**


	10. Lessons

Harry asked Hermione about the Quarter and Cross-Quarter days Snape had mentioned.  She had given him a forty-five minute lecture about what they were, their meanings, their significance and, finally, when they were.  The next one, Candlemas, was the first Tuesday in February.  That day, Harry talked to Blaise and Daphne and was unsurprised when Blaise told him that day that Malfoy had had to go home for "family business" until the next day.

 

During their Care of Magical Creatures class that afternoon, Hagrid came out beaming.  "I have a special treat for yeh," he told the class.  "Now, most o'the creatures we study here aren't intelligent.  They mebbe canny or cunning, but they're not like us.  Today, I thought I'd introduce yeh to somethin' a bit more like us."  He turned to the Forbidden Forest and called, "Grawp!"

 

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks of pure horror.  Grawp was unpredictable at best; he might be on his best behaviour, or he might give an example of why giants had been driven from England.  Noticing their reaction, Blaise sidled over.  "What's a Grawp?" he asked quietly.

 

Ron took a deep breath.  "He's Hagrid's half-brother.  They have the same mum."

 

"Wasn't his mum the giant?" Blaise asked, his eyes widening.  "Does that make . . ." He didn't get to finish the sentence because Hagrid had finally convinced Grawp to come out of the forest.

 

Harry hadn't seen Grawp since the summer and the change was stunning.  Grawp was neatly groomed, in the same kind of horrible hairy suit Hagrid wore when he dressed up, and his hair was neatly combed.  As the class gasped, he stomped into the clearing where class was held and held up his hand.  "Hi," he said.

 

The class was silent, staring up at the giant.  Before they could start to panic, or Hagrid could say anything more, Grawp saw Hermione and smiled, calling out, "Hi, Hermy!"

 

"Hi, Grawp," Hermione answered, beginning to recover her normal calm.  "We, the class, have never met a giant before."

 

Grawp smiled at her and sat down.  The resulting crash knocked a couple of the smaller students down, where they were quickly joined by the students left standing.  Hagrid turned to the class and said, "Grawp is my brother and, as yeh can see, he's a giant.  What c'n ye tell me about giants?"

 

The class that followed was actually one of Hagrid's better lessons.  First, he lectured about where giants now lived and their social structure.  Then, he let the class ask questions of Grawp, who answered as best he could, although he was frequently confused by what they wanted to know.  Without Malfoy there, the other Slytherins didn't try to give Hagrid a hard time; they mostly just stared.

 

After the lesson was over, Daphne joined Blaise.  "That was a surprisingly good lesson," she said.  She looked a little hesitant.  They discussed the lesson and giants all the way back to the castle.

 

In Charms class, Professor Flitwick began teaching about mapping charms.  He started with basic Mapping Charm, _Graphio Cartos_.  Harry immediately tried to map Hogwarts with it, but it didn't work; his paper remained as blank as when he started.  Professor Flitwick came over to check what had gone wrong.  When Harry explained it, he smiled kindly and asked for the class's attention.  "Mr. Potter has tried an experiment which highlights one of the chief limits of this spell.  This Mapping Charm cannot be used on a Disillusioned, Warded or Unplottable location.  That is much more complex magic which we will not be covering."  He turned back to Harry.  "That was a very good try.  Why don't you try something simpler?  And, perhaps, smaller?"

 

After the frustration of Charms, their next Defence Against the Dark Arts class was much simpler.  As they entered the room, they found all the desks had been stacked and pushed to the edges of the room.  Professor Gillespie smiled as they walked in and announced, "Set your books with the desks and gather in the centre of the room with your wands."  As soon as the class sorted itself out, Gillespie asked, "How many of you have ever seen or experienced a Dementor attack?"  When the entire class raised their hands, he looked startled.  "Er, all of you?  That's a little unusual; what were the circumstances?" 

 

He was rattled enough to call on Hermione for the answer.  "Three years ago, during our third year, the Minister of Magic assigned Dementors to guard the school.  They also went through the Hogwarts Express when it brought us here for start of term.  They mostly stayed outside the gates, but they did come in for one Quidditch match."

 

Gillespie cleaned his glasses while Hermione spoke.  He thought a moment, and then asked, "Well, I scarcely need to teach you of its effects then.  Does anyone in the class have an, er, unusually strong reaction to them?  Most people just feel dreadful in their presence, but some react so strongly that they can actually faint."

 

Harry sighed, but raised his hand.  Gillespie smiled ruefully.  "Yes, of course, Mr. Potter; that's to be expected.  Anyone else?"  No one else raised their hands, although the class was shifting uncomfortably.  "That's good to see, at least.  Dementors can be protected against, but the spell is very difficult to perform against a real Dementor.  Can anyone tell me what it is?"  Everyone in the room raised their hands, which caused Gillespie to blink in surprise.  He pulled out a stack of parchment and glanced through it.  "I don't see this charm being taught by any of your previous instructors."  He looked up and saw everyone in the room looking at Harry.  "Ah, this was taught in your Defence club, is that it, Mr. Potter?  Have you ever performed it against a real Dementor?"  His expression said he thought the answer would be no.

 

"Yes, on two occasions.  And, when I learned it, we used a Boggart to practice against."

 

"Your greatest . . . Never mind.  That's impressive.  All right," he turned back to the class, "how many of you can perform the spell?"  Most of the class dropped their hands.  He looked a little more at ease.  "Mr. Potter, have you gone over the theory behind _Expecto Patronum_, what it does and why it works?"

 

"I know it works as a kind of guardian, but beyond that, I don't know."

 

"Well, then, let's start there."  He waved his wand and moved the desks back where they belonged.  Once everyone was seated, he began a lecture on the theory and history of both Dementors and _Expecto Patronum_.  Harry found the information fascinating, taking notes with Hermione-like interest.  At the end of class, Gillespie held them up for a minute.  "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Mr. Thomas indicated they were able to conjure Patronuses.  Would you three demonstrate?  One at a time, please." 

 

Harry was able to conjure his stag, Hermione her otter and Dean conjured a panther.  Gillespie shook his head, looking impressed.  "Corporeal Patronuses.  Should I ask how many of you can produce some silver mist?"  The rest of the class raised their hands.  He smiled and nodded to Harry.  "Fine work, Mr. Potter.  It looks like this will be a much shorter section than I expected."  Harry walked out of the classroom, feeling terribly proud of his DA members.

 

On Wednesday, Harry woke up feeling tired and off.  He went to his classes, but had a difficult time concentrating on the teachers or his own work.  By the afternoon, when his head had been aching for several hours, he felt the first sharp pain in his scar.  Telling Ron and Hermione that he was feeling ill, he went back to the dorm, closed the curtains around his bed and lay down, closing his eyes and trying to will the pain away.  He could feel a growing sense of triumph from Voldemort, but nothing else.

 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there, when Ron came in with a damp, cool flannel.  "Hermione went for the Headmaster," his friend said.  "You've been up here moaning for an hour and we haven't been able to wake you.  Are you feeling any better now?"

 

"Worse," Harry said.  His voice was nothing but a hoarse croak.  As he was putting the flannel on his head, he felt something like the Imperius curse, telling him to hex Ron.  "No, I won't," he thought to himself, resisting the urge.  Ron was talking to him, but Harry shut it out in favour of fighting the nearly irresistible urge to hurt Ron, with magic or his bare hands.  He didn't know how long he lay there fighting, but after what felt like hours the urge faded away, as did the pain in his scar. 

 

Opening his eyes, he saw Dumbledore and Hermione had joined Ron.  His friends both looked pale and scared while the Headmaster looked concerned.  "Harry," he said, "how are you feeling now?"

 

"A little better," Harry answered.  His voice was still rough and it hurt to talk.  "The pain in my scar is gone, but my head is still aching.  Do you have any idea what just happened?"

 

"I have an idea," Dumbledore said, "but I'd like someone else to check as well.  Let's take you to the Hospital Wing and have Madam Pomfrey look you over?"  He helped Harry to stand and led them out of the dormitory.

 

Ron, obviously thinking that Harry was still feeling ill, put his arm around Harry and supported him as they walked.  By the time they got to the Hospital Wing, Ron was more carrying Harry than Harry was walking.  Harry lay down on one of the beds and was asleep immediately.

 

It was hours later when he finally woke.  The Hospital Wing was dim and quiet, but Ron and Hermione were still sitting next to his bed.  Harry smiled as he realized they were completely oblivious to his having woken up, being too busy snogging.  Finally getting tired of waiting for them, he cleared his throat.

 

Both of them jumped.  Hermione started to explain what Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore had decided, but she was talking so fast Harry couldn't understand her.  Harry looked at Ron.  His face was just as red as Hermione's, but he was able to talk normally.  "Madam Pomfrey said you can leave as soon as you wake up and she checks you out.  She'll be back in a minute; she went to get something to eat.  In the meantime," Ron lowered his voice, "it was Snape Dumbledore wanted to talk to.  They both did something . . . "

 

"Legilimency," Hermione interrupted.

 

"Yeah, and decided that Voldemort tried to take control of you through your link."

 

Harry stared at him.  "It worked, didn't it?"

 

"Of course not," Hermione said briskly.  "It took him hours and hours to get through enough of your barriers to do anything and then you threw him right out.  Professor Dumbledore thinks that your headache is nothing on the one Voldemort has."  She gave him a satisfied smile.  "He also doesn't think he'll try again, but Professor Snape will be keeping an ear out if he says anything about it."

 

"Snape knew he was going to try something," Ron added, "but he wasn't sure what.  He actually seemed almost impressed with your shields and Occlumency."

 

It was shortly after that that Madam Pomfrey returned.  She examined Harry, told him he was fine, but should take it easy for the next couple of days and released him from the Hospital Wing.

 

Throughout the next day, Harry discovered he was feeling much calmer than he had in what seemed like forever.  He went to his classes and discovered that he was picking up the lessons much more quickly than he had before.  As he was drawing a picture of a nightshade plant in Herbology, he asked Hermione why she thought it was.

 

"I don't know, it's a good question," she said.

 

"Maybe," Ron answered, "he's pulled far enough away from you that you're not feeling him.  After all, you feel what he feels and, a lot of times, that's how you act.  Maybe, if he's leaving you alone, _you're_ coming out."

 

Harry thought about it.  There was a certain rightness to the explanation, but it didn't feel perfectly right.

 

"After classes," Hermione said, "I'll go to the library and see if I can find any answers.  I know where most of the books on soul bonds are now, and Professor McGonagall gave me a pass to check them out of the Restricted Section."

 

Harry smiled at her assurance that the library would hold the answers and went back to his drawing.

 

In Transfiguration later, they were trying to transfigure a chair into a number of different objects.  Harry discovered that he was actually pretty good at it.  Not as good as Hermione, of course, but he was doing pretty well.  That's why he was so surprised when Professor McGonagall asked him to stay after class.

 

Harry gathered up his books as the rest of the class left, feeling nervous.  He couldn't remember having broken any rules in quite a while.  He could see Ron and Hermione waiting just outside the door.  McGonagall looked up, noticed them and beckoned them in, scowling.  "You may as well come in," she said.  "And you can relax, Potter; you're not in trouble."

 

"Good," Harry said.

 

"Due to reasons of security, you haven't been allowed to attend any Hogsmeade weekends this year," she said.  "You've been quite understanding about this restriction, and we've decided to reward you."  Ron and Hermione were exchanging a triumphant look as McGonagall continued.  "You will be permitted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend.  There are three rules.  First, you will go straight to Hogsmeade and straight back and you will not leave the town for any reason.  Second, you will not be alone at any time.  If your friends need privacy," she smiled thinly at Ron and Hermione, "you will find someone else with whom to visit.  Third, there will be members of the Order present to ensure your safety.  If they come to you and tell you to do something, you will follow their instructions immediately.  Can you do that?"

 

"Right," Harry agreed.  Then, a possible problem occurred to him.  "What if I don't know my guard?"

 

Professor McGonagall seemed quite satisfied with his question.  "The only people being considered are those you do know," she assured him.  "Right now, it looks like it will be Remus or Tonks.  Or both," she added.  Then she turned to Hermione, "Have you received the permission from your parents to go as well, Miss Granger?"

 

Hermione smiled happily.  "Yes.  Mum agreed that going into the village with my boyfriend the day after Valentine's Day is worthy of their giving me permission.  Especially since you told her the Order would have watchers there."  Hermione dug into her book bag and pulled out a note.  "Here it is."

 

The three of them headed to the library.  Ron looked nervously at Hermione.  "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day," he said.  "I, er, I completely forgot about it.  I didn't get you anything."

 

"That's all right."  Hermione smiled.  "I thought you might forget.  You can take me to Madam Puddifoot's for lunch instead."

 

Ron's expression said he wasn't sure Madam Puddifoot's was any better than an angry girlfriend on Valentine's Day, but he kept quiet about it.  Harry was sniggering to himself over Ron's meek acceptance of their Saturday lunch plans.  "I reckon I'll see who else is going and if they mind me tagging along for lunch," Harry said, partly to distract Ron.

 

"Seamus, Lavender and Parvati are going together," Hermione said.  "Maybe you can go with them."

 

Saturday morning turned out to be a beautiful day.  The sun was shining and, although it was quite cold, there was no wind to keep the students inside.  Hermione, Lavender and Parvati had decided between themselves that they, Ron, Seamus and Harry would go together with Dean, Ginny, Neville and Luna.  The walk into town was great; everyone was laughing and just having fun.  Harry and Parvati wound up walking together since the others were paired up.  When Harry realized this, he was a little nervous; he still remembered the conversation he'd had with Luna.  As the others drew away from him, he leaned down and quietly asked Parvati, "Is Luna trying to set us up?"

 

Parvati smiled at him.  "She said you were worried about putting anyone else in danger," she answered just as quietly.  "You worry about so much and you have to, I know," she cut Harry off from saying anything, "but somebody needs to worry about you.  I'm not seeing anybody, you're not seeing anybody and, if we have some fun, where's the harm?"

 

"Did she mention the whole 'Anyone I care about could be used by Voldemort' thing?" Harry asked.  "It's not a stupid concern; my godfather died because Voldemort used him against me.  I can't, I won't let that happen to anyone else."

 

"Harry," Parvati said patiently, "I'm not talking about eternal love.  I'm talking about spending the day together.  And before you say anything else," she continued, her face firming into resolve, "I know it could be dangerous and that's a chance I'm willing to take.  So, where do you want to go?"

 

It was a good day.  They visited all the different shops, laughing about how strange they all seemed when they first came here in their third year.  Harry and Parvati had lunch in The Three Broomsticks while the others went to Madam Puddifoot's.  While they were lingering over their butterbeers, Harry saw Tonks walk into the pub and start looking around.  He stood up, worried, until she saw him, relaxed, and walked over. 

 

"Wotcher, Harry," she laughed.  She then turned to Parvati and held out her hand.  "Hi, I'm Tonks.  I'm a friend of Harry's."

 

"And this is Parvati Patil," Harry said.  "She and I aren't seeing anybody, so we're keeping each other company."  Harry turned to Parvati.  "I met Tonks over a year ago; she's one of my godfather's cousins."

 

"Nice to meet you," Parvati said with a smile.  "Hermione's mentioned you a few times.  Are you the watcher Ron and Hermione said would be here?"

 

Harry felt his cheeks flush.  "Yeah.  They told you about that?"

 

Parvati and Tonks exchanged a look and Tonks sat down.  "Patil?  Is your dad a mediwizard?"

 

Parvati nodded and the two of them started talking to each other.  It turned out they knew a lot of the same people.  Tonks could tell them stories Parvati had never heard and they were all laughing in no time.

 

Finally, Harry looked at Tonks.  "Why did you come in here?  I thought you were going to stay out of sight?"

 

"When all the others you were with went into Madam Puddifoot's, and you didn't, I decided to make sure you were all right," Tonks said.

 

Harry laughed.  "I went to Madam Puddifoot's once.  It was a disaster and I'll never go in there again."

 

Parvati gave him a funny look.  "Do you feel the same way about dances?"

 

Harry flushed.  "Er, I had an all right time.  I was a bit of a prat to you, though; I'm glad you've forgiven me?"

 

"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," Parvati said, while Tonks laughed. 

 

She then looked at her watch.  "Harry, I hate to do this to you, but it'd be a lot easier if you went back to the castle now.  Could you . . .?"

 

Harry looked at Parvati, who smiled back.  "It's fine with me," she said.  "I still have that Charms essay to do."

 

They walked back together, talking about school and their friends.  When they got back to Hogwarts' grounds, Harry turned and waved to Tonks.  As they walked back to the castle, Parvati smiled.  "I'm glad you could come today," she said.  "I had a really good time."

 

"Me, too," Harry agreed.  They walked up to Gryffindor Tower, where they went to work on their homework.  Sitting next to Parvati felt good.  Harry tried to convince himself that this was a bad idea, but he couldn't seem to walk away.

 

When the others got back, Seamus started to tease them, until he saw them deep into homework.  "That's no fun," he complained.  Parvati gave Lavender and Hermione a look, and the three girls went up to the girls' dorm.  "Do you ever wonder what they talk about when they do that?" he asked.

 

Ron shook his head.  "I'd go mad.  Hey, Harry, are you up for a game of chess?"

 

That Sunday, the first of Rita's stories was published.  A large barn owl dropped two papers in front of Harry while he was eating his breakfast.  The first Harry opened was _The Quibbler_.  Blazoned across the front page was the headline, FUDGE TRIES TO DESTROY HOGWARTS.  Underneath was a picture of Fudge staring straight into the camera looking furious.  Harry handed that paper to Ron while he picked up the _Sunday Prophet_.  A little more restrained than the _Quibbler_, its headline read CORRUPTION IN THE MINISTRY?

 

Harry spent the rest of the morning reading both papers front to back, trading pages back and forth with Ron and Hermione.  They had found a quiet area and weren't disturbed by other students.  That was fortunate; the papers were disturbing enough.

 

Mr. Lovegood had asked Rita to interview Harry and investigate Umbridge's Blood Quill detentions.  During the interview, Harry had mentioned a few other matters, so Rita started investigating.  Every time she'd get confirmation of something, though, it led to something else.  Rita had been able to get some Ministry employees to talk, under the promise of anonymity, and they painted a picture of corruption throughout the Ministry, especially in the Minister's office.  She had been unable to link anything directly to Fudge, but every other member of his office, with the glaring exception of Percy Weasley, was implicated.

 

The _Quibbler's_ story was primarily about Hogwarts.  They printed all of the Educational Decrees in full, including the circumstances that created them.  They told of how Umbridge and Fudge had tried to arrest Dumbledore for what the paper described as _"an extracurricular study group devoted to learning Defence in these difficult times"_.  Harry's interview was printed, as were interviews with Dumbledore and McGonagall as Deputy Headmistress under both Dumbledore and Umbridge.  Harry was impressed at how McGonagall would imply Umbridge's incompetence without actually saying so bluntly.

 

The _Prophet_, on the other hand, relegated the Hogwarts portion of the story to the back pages.  It concentrated on the events in the Ministry.  Rita Skeeter, and another regular reporter on the _Prophet's_ staff, had found evidence that members of Fudge's staff would take bribes to "fix" anything-no matter how serious or dangerous the crime.  One man known to be a Death Eater, a Henry Stuart, had paid to have his entire record wiped.  That record included two families of Muggle-born wizards killed after Voldemort's return.  In fact, they were able to prove that Fudge knew Voldemort was back but was refusing to admit it to keep himself in power.  The articles stated that there were no other instances recorded in which Dementors were used to keep Fudge's enemies under control, or anyone attacked with Cruciatus for defying Ministry personnel.  At the same time, there was no evidence that either of those things had been done to Harry and the paper assumed he was telling the truth.

 

When he had finally finished reading both papers twice, Harry sat back feeling stunned.  Both the _Prophet_ and the _Quibbler_ were taking a huge chance on nothing more than his word.  He was thrilled that his word was considered good enough, but worried about what the papers had left them open to.  When he said that out loud, Hermione was quick to argue with him.

 

"The reporters and editors know what they can and can't say," she said firmly.  "They seem to have decided that Fudge won't decide what they print any more.  Not that Mr. Lovegood ever let him get away with it," she said, picking up the Quibbler to read McGonagall's interview again.

 

After skimming the Prophet for the fifth time, Ron leaned back and sighed.  "Mum and Dad will be relieved," he said when Harry looked at him.  "I never thought I'd be grateful that Percy refused to break rules, but I am now.  I'd hate to see him get in trouble; Mum and Dad would never get over it."

 

Harry and Hermione looked at each other unnoticed by Ron, who was staring out over the lake.  It didn't look like Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the only ones relieved by Percy's absence in the papers.

 

When they returned to the Great Hall, the noise level dropped dramatically.  It felt like every eye was on Harry and his friends as they walked to the Gryffindor table.  Once they sat down, most people stopped looking at them, but Harry suspected he'd be answering questions about his interview for days.  He looked up to see the teachers' reactions and was relieved to see that most of them looked cheerful.  Snape was glowering, but Harry expected nothing else from him.  Not only did he glower on the best of days, but the Inquisitorial Squad had been thoroughly disgraced although the blame was placed more on Umbridge than the students. 

 

The next morning, a flock of owls delivered the post to Harry while he was eating breakfast.  Ron shook his head at the pile of letters.  "D'you mind if we help you open them?" he asked as he reached for a stack that was about to topple over.  When Harry shook his head, Ron ripped open the first letter.  "This one wants to know what else Fudge is hiding.  Nice if we knew."

 

Hermione had gathered her own stack.  "This one's useless," she said after quickly reading the top one.  "Thinks you shouldn't disagree with the Minister.  Of course, he's allowed to make you look deranged."  Harry grinned at her support.

 

Ginny and Neville had come over and asked if they could help.  By the time they were finished, all of the Gryffindor Sixth Years were opening letters.  The others had made it a bit of a game, making stacks of letters that agreed and disagreed with Harry.  It was heartening to see that a lot more people seemed to be agreeing with Harry.

 

Classes that week were especially interesting:  Neville suddenly started doing better.  A lot better.  He wasn't able to do better than Hermione, but his Revealing Charm revealed an older example on the parchment Flitwick had given him in addition to the one he was supposed to reveal.  In Transfiguration, where they were reviewing Switching Spells, Neville was finally able to perform his perfectly.  And in Defence Against the Dark Arts, where Gillespie had them duelling, Neville knocked Harry out by blasting him across the room-right through Harry's shield.  When Hermione asked him if he knew why he was suddenly doing so well, Neville nodded happily.  "They're still not entirely sure what the Death Eaters did to me that day, but they've been able to clear part of the curses.  The curses they cleared were set to deliberately inhibit my magic; apparently, they were testing them.  St. Mungo's is going to be keeping an eye out for them; they're nasty."

 

The _Prophet_ had been promising more information on the events in the Minister's office, but something more shocking took its place.  The day before, there had been an attack on the village nearest Azkaban Prison.  It was clear the reporter didn't know much-the Ministry was still investigating-but what was made public was chilling.  Seventeen people were dead, five people were Kissed and two people, including one child, were injured.  The Great Hall was quiet at breakfast that morning; the attacks were serving the purpose of terrifying the Wizarding world. 

 

As Harry, Ron and Hermione stood up to go back to the common room, Professor McGonagall came up to them.  "Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore needs to see you in his office immediately," she said in a low voice.  "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, you'll see him later."  She walked with Harry up to the Headmaster's office, but left him at the foot of the stairs.  "Go on up; he's expecting you."

 

Harry walked into the office to see Remus sitting in the chair opposite Dumbledore.  He looked exhausted and rather ill.  Harry thought the full moon had just passed.  "Harry," Dumbledore greeted him, "please come in.  This morning's news has a very disturbing aspect and Remus wished to tell you about it himself."

 

"You know last night was the full moon?" Remus asked, his voice hoarse.

 

"Sort of," Harry said.

 

Remus smiled.  "It was; that's why I look so terrible today."  He took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself for something.  "The attacks last night . . . Those Kissed were attacked by dementors.  The rest were attacked by werewolves, and two people were transformed."

 

Harry was stunned.  "The werewolves have gone to Voldemort?" he asked in a hushed voice.

 

Remus smiled faintly.  "Some werewolves have gone to Voldemort; Umbridge's laws are so restrictive that they'll do anything for freedom.  Most have not, but I can't say for how long that will hold."

 

"We're telling you this," Dumbledore said, "because we've found you do better with more information than less.  From what we can tell, the Ministry is not releasing this information.  They're afraid of the terror which would grip our world."

 

"One of the people killed last night was also a werewolf," Remus added.  "From what we can tell, there were a few with the Dementors and two fighting on our side.  We're trying to get that news out; it should make things easier."

 

Dumbledore nodded, looking tired as well.  "This information needs to be kept very quiet, Harry," he said.  "You may tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but only somewhere where you cannot be overheard.  We don't need panic and that's all that would result."

 

Harry nodded, feeling numb.  "Remus, has Voldemort approached you?  Do you know how . . .?"

 

"Not this time," Remus said.  He smiled.  "My answer the first time around pretty much insures that they won't try again.  They may try to capture or kill me."

 

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

 

"I reported the Death Eater to the Aurors.  Trying to hire a werewolf to kill or injure someone is the same as arranging a murder.  His emissary went to Azkaban and died there a year later."  Remus sighed.  "Harry, sometime soon, you and I need to sit down and have a long talk, but today's not the day.  They are improving the Wolfsbane Potion, but the transformation is still painful and tiring.  Can you wait a bit for the rest of your questions?"

 

Harry nodded.  "I may write them to you," he threatened. 

 

Remus laughed.  "Sounds wonderful," he said as he left.

 

Harry pulled Ron and Hermione to the Room of Requirement.  On their way, they bumped into Ginny and Neville.  When Harry tried not to let them come along, Ginny gave him a look that reminded Harry strongly of Mrs. Weasley.  "We're not letting you go off alone," she told him firmly.  "Unless you truly believe you can't trust us . . . "

 

"OK, you can come along," Harry interrupted.  He really didn't want Ginny telling him off.  When they got there, Harry locked the door and put up silencing and barrier spells.  "That should be enough," he said and told the others what Dumbledore and Remus had told him.

 

"That's horrible," Neville said.  "They're making things worse for themselves, not better."

 

"Maybe that's what they're trying to do," Hermione said thoughtfully.  "If there's enough of a backlash, especially if people start killing werewolves just because of what they are."

 

"Or locking them all up," Ron added.  "That makes a horrible kind of sense."

 

The only additional piece of information the _Prophet_ was able to report over the next week was that there were Dementors back in Azkaban and there were no more sightings of them anywhere else.  No one knew what was happening at Azkaban.

 

When Harry walked into the training room on Friday evening, Snape told him that they would be doing things differently.  "The Dark Lord has made it clear that no one else is to kill you.  In fact, if you're irreparably harmed, the punishment will be severe."

 

"Irreparably harmed?" Harry asked.  "Does that mean they're just supposed to capture me?"

 

"Whoever manages it will be highly rewarded," Snape confirmed.  "I'm believed to be at an advantage because I'm here at school, but the Dark Lord knows I must be careful of Dumbledore.  You must be extremely careful; your trip to Hogsmeade was ill advised.  You are not to even leave the castle except for classes and that accompanied.  Do you understand?"  When Harry nodded, Snape continued, "The techniques for capturing a victim without causing permanent harm are different than those for killing or incapacitating him.  So are the techniques to defend against them.  We will start learning them." 

 

They worked for over an hour on the new skills.  By the end, Harry was dripping with sweat, but had been able to stay out of Snape's control for over fifteen minutes.  "Next time, we'll add magic to the mix," he said.  "You have an army, do you not?"

 

"It's really just a study group," Harry said.

 

Snape sneered.  "Of course.  I want a list of everyone in your little study group and how much you, personally, trust them.  I don't want Miss Granger's opinion, or Mr. Weasley's or Nearly Headless Nick's, for that matter.  Do you understand?"

 

Harry nodded.  "Yes, sir.  Can I ask why?"

 

"You just did," Snape said, smirking.  When Harry glared, he relented.  "It's time for you to begin building your own allies.  Much as I despise it, you are being made to carry a major role in this war; it's about time you started acting that way."

 

Although he didn't tell Ron or Hermione about the list he was making, he did mention the last comment Snape had made.  Hermione looked shocked, but Ron just nodded.  "He's right.  You need to know who's on your side and who you can depend on," Ron said.  "For the record, you can include me."

 

Harry laughed and went up to wash off the sweat.

  



	11. How Are a Ring and a Tatoo the Same?

Sunday's _Prophet_ had a response from Fudge.  He stated that the Ministry had done nothing wrong at Hogwarts, but that they were investigating Dolores Umbridge's actions while there.  The story sounded sceptical that the investigation would show anything different than what Fudge said it would.

 

More newsworthy were the Letters to the Editor.  Many were from parents but even more were from witches and wizards who had attended Hogwarts in previous years.  All were appalled at the Ministry's interference and at what one witch called "Umbridge's Year of Terror".  Some mentioned the absence of effective Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers.  One stated, "Professor Remus Lupin may have been a werewolf, appalling as that is, but at least my daughter learned something in his classes."  Another letter asked, "Perhaps it's time we raised our standards for the class, to something a little better than having a heartbeat."

 

Hermione read all of them out loud, with particular emphasis on those that criticized Fudge.  She, Harry and Ron all agreed that, although they had had some terrible Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, Professor Gillespie was good at what he did.

 

When Professor Gillespie walked into Monday's class, he didn't seem to be especially annoyed.  After waiting for half the class for him to say something, Parvati finally gave in to her curiosity.  When he called on her, she asked, "Aren't you upset over what was in the paper yesterday?"

 

He smiled ruefully.  "Ten points to Gryffindor; you're the first student to come right out and ask that question.  If I were being named specifically, I'd be furious.  If my teaching is as lacking as you have received in previous years, I want to know about it.  However, what was said was that, except for Professors Lupin and Moody, the teachers for this class for several years have been incompetent at best.  Judging from my testing at the beginning of the year and what I've seen of past years' lesson plans, I agree.  The fact that the only competent teachers in the past have been a werewolf and an impostor are enough to make any parent angry."

 

Pacing in front of the room, he continued, "Ms. Skeeter owled me yesterday afternoon and asked me for an interview.  I have granted it and I intend to agree with the outrage over past teachers and explain how I intend on remedying the lack.  Frankly, I'm much more concerned by other revelations that have been in the paper as of late." 

 

He stopped and looked intently at the class.  "Have all of you spoken with, er, Professor McGonagall about . . . my predecessor's detentions?"  When he checked that everyone had nodded, he looked thoughtfully at him or her.  "Good.  Please open your books to the chapter on Dark objects." What followed was a lesson on the best-known Dark objects and what could be done to counter them.

 

Although he'd done fairly well against Snape in avoiding being captured the week before, once magic was added, Harry discovered he couldn't stay out of Snape's "control" for more than five minutes at a time.  After working for nearly an hour, Snape called a halt.  "You're progressing more quickly than I expected, but it's not enough.  We have to increase these sessions to two a week.  Three if we can arrange it."

 

Harry sighed.  "I'll find the time.  Somehow."

 

"Give me your list."

 

It took Harry a minute to remember which list Snape was talking about, but he dug it out of his bag.  "I hope it's clear."

 

Snape nodded absently as he looked it over.  "I'll keep this," he said, pocketing the list.  Then, he pulled three books from his briefcase.  "By next week you are to be proficient in everything in the first book and have read the other two.  If anything changes, you'll be informed."  He strode out of the room.

 

Harry shook his head.  Snape was still as unfair as ever in classes, but in private he was becoming . . . almost civil.  It was hard to get used to.

 

The next day's _Daily Prophet_ had two articles Harry found especially interesting.  The first covered more responses to the "Blood Quill Scandal".  As time went on, and the fear of Voldemort increased, more and more people were calling for Fudge to be removed from office.

 

The second left him unable to finish his breakfast.  It was a summary of Death Eater attacks that had occurred over the last week.  Only one person had died, but Harry knew there were more deaths coming.  He couldn't help feeling responsible, knowing that he was the only one who could stop Voldemort. 

 

When Hermione asked why he'd become so quiet, he showed her the article.  She shook her head.  "At least no one is trying to say Voldemort's not back any more," she said.  "If people are warned, they have a better chance of defending themselves.  And you're not to feel responsible," she continued, looking at him with an expression that reminded him of McGonagall.  "It's not your fault Voldemort's killing people; you're doing what you can."

 

Her firm statement, and Ron's answering nod, made Harry feel better, but no less responsible.  He had to figure out how to fulfil the prophecy.

 

When the next _Sunday Prophet_ arrived, Harry was stunned by the photograph on the front page.  Somewhere, they had found a photograph of Tom Riddle as he was when he left school.  The caption under the photograph sent the readers to page three, where there was an extensive biography on Tom Marvolo Riddle and how he became Lord Voldemort.  The paper was even brave enough to call him Voldemort, although it usually referred to him as Riddle. 

 

As Harry began reading the story, his scar began to burn.  Harry began Occluding, and then raising his shields against emotions.  When neither of those worked, he looked over at Ron and mouthed, "Help me out of here."  Wide-eyed, Ron helped him walk back to their dorm room.

 

Once Harry was sitting on his bed, he tried pushing out and into Voldemort's mind.  He was amazed when it worked; he was in Voldemort's body, looking down at a copy of the _Prophet_ on a table.  He was in a room with Wormtail and Malfoy.  He quickly began looking around, trying to memorize every detail he could.  He realized he knew where he was; he was in "his" office at Azkaban Headquarters.  He decided to see if he could feel the Death Eaters through their Marks.  He had almost found the connections when he lost his hold and "fell" back into his own head.

 

Opening his eyes, Harry saw Ron sitting on the next bed, his freckles standing out on his white face.  "Are you all right, Harry?" he asked.

 

"Yeah, but my head really hurts," Harry answered.  "I think I'd better talk to Dumbledore; Voldemort's in Azkaban running things.  He wasn't happy about this morning's article."

 

When they walked through the common room, Hermione ran up to them.  "What happened?" she asked quietly.  Ron explained quickly as the three of them walked to Dumbledore's office.

 

Dumbledore seemed to have been expecting them; the gargoyle guarding his office was open.  When they walked in, he waved them to chairs in front of his desk.  "Am I correct in assuming you're here to report Voldemort's unhappiness with this morning's _Sunday Prophet_?"

 

Harry nodded.  "He was livid.  I was able to see his office in Azkaban.  The main thing I saw was a copy of the paper on a desk, but I think I'd recognize the office again.  Malfoy and Wormtail were with him."

 

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.  "I'm not surprised he was upset.  The article, as far as I was able to determine, is accurate.  I doubt he wants his followers, or his potential followers, to know that he's a half-blood.  Harry, were you able to read the entire article?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "No, sir.  I only got through the first page.  Why?"

 

"There's something you should read," Dumbledore said, opening his paper to the end of the article, turning it around and pointing to a paragraph very near the end.

 

In researching Mr. Riddle's past, certain similarities can be seen with someone whose name is frequently paired with his:  The Boy Who Lived.  Both Tom Riddle and Harry Potter were orphaned as babies, both are half-bloods, both were raised with little love, both are Parselmouths, and both are unusually powerful wizards.  Could Riddle, in trying to destroy the last of the Potters, have created his own rival and downfall?

 

 "They're awfully close."  Harry felt cold.  "Could this cause us trouble?"

 

Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling merrily behind his half-moon glasses.  "I don't believe so.  Certainly, both you and he have had cause to notice the similarities before.  The only real difference is that now the Wizarding world as a whole can see them as well.  I suspect that that is what he is truly angry about."

 

The next morning brought the expected flood of owls from the paper's readers.  For once, the responses were mostly positive; most of the writers simply wanted to declare their loyalties.  Harry set aside those who asked if he knew of a group actively resisting Voldemort's actions; he would give those to Remus for the Order.

 

On Friday morning at breakfast, Blaise walked over to the Gryffindor table and leaned over to speak with Harry.  "Potter," Blaise said quietly, "watch yourself on Monday.  Draco just left to spend the weekend at home and he says that you'll be sorry when he sees you on Monday."

 

Harry nodded.  "Thanks for the warning, Blaise."  When Blaise had returned to the Slytherin table, Harry looked at Hermione.

 

She dug into one of the books in her bag.  "Yes, the Spring Equinox, which is one of the Quarter Days, is today.  It must be another of those rituals."

 

"Harry, could you try to see what's going on?  You were able to do it once, weren't you?"

 

"I got told off for doing it," Harry answered slowly, "but I could certainly give it a try."

 

That afternoon after classes were over, Harry went to his dorm and tried the same exercise that had worked before.  He wasn't able to break into Voldemort's mind again; his attention was very focused on what he was doing and there was what felt like a barrier in the way.  Not wanting to alert him, Harry didn't push very hard.

 

When he opened his eyes, Ron and Hermione were both sitting on Ron's bed looking anxiously at him.  "Sorry," he said, "I couldn't see anything."

 

"Probably for the best," Ron said while Hermione nodded.  "I just thought it might be worth a try."

 

During breakfast on Saturday, Percy's owl Hermes flew in and stopped at Ron's plate.  When he had taken his letter from the owl, it flew over to Ginny, dropped its second letter on her plate and flew off.  Ron and Ginny exchanged looks.  While Ginny opened her letter to read while eating, Ron set his aside. 

 

"Ron!  Aren't you going to read that?" Hermione asked.

 

"After I eat my breakfast," Ron answered, putting a third helping of scrambled eggs on his plate.  "I don't want to risk spoiling my appetite."

 

After finishing his breakfast, Ron went straight to the common room and read his letter.  Hermione looked over his shoulder, which made Harry grin.  When Ron had finished, he looked thoughtful.  "For once, Percy giving advice isn't being a total prat," he finally said.  "Do you want to read it?"  He offered the letter to Harry.  "He talks about you in it, and he's not advising me to drop you as a friend because you're so violent this time."

 

Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry laughed and accepted the letter.

 

_Dear Ron,_ it read,

 

_Professor Dumbledore is now asking the professors for their recommendations for Head Boy and Head Girl.  Since I believe your name will be on those lists, I thought I'd give you some advice to obtain that position._

_The Head Boy goes to someone who is a leader.  They look at grades but they look just as closely at other things.  Your leading one of the Defence Against the Dark Arts study groups will look very good, as will your taking your prefect duties seriously.  Many Head Boys are not on their House's Quidditch teams; however, the fact that you are and still hold up your other responsibilities should look quite good._

_Finally, there is the personal factor.  Harry, of course, is the Headmaster's favourite; however, this may serve you better than it would initially appear.  By not choosing Harry as a prefect, Dumbledore has demonstrated that he can be impartial in determining who should be given responsibility.  As Harry's best friend and as someone who has actively supported him, even in the face of heavy opposition, your name will be one Dumbledore knows and will view kindly._

_If the Head Boy position is one you wish to obtain, and it certainly should be, I would recommend that you continue to work hard at your classes, take your prefect duties seriously and take any other opportunities for leadership that come your way.  Looking for those opportunities wouldn't go amiss._

_Good luck in whatever you choose to do._

_Percy_

 

Harry quietly handed the letter back to Ron, feeling curiously ambivalent about it.  "I wish he didn't think your being my best friend was going to have anything to do with whether or not you're made Head Boy," he said.  "There are better reasons for you to make it.  Just think, the Mirror of Erised might have been telling the future in what it showed you."

 

"You never mentioned you'd seen the Mirror of Erised," Hermione said.  "What did you see?"

 

His eyes wide, Ron said, "I saw myself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain.  Remember, Harry, I asked you if you thought it showed the future.  Do you really think I have a shot at it?"

 

Harry felt a wave of cold run over him but didn't want to let Ron know.  "Yes, I do," he said.  "I'll see you two later; I have some homework to finish."  Harry picked up his book bag and walked to the library.  He spent the rest of the morning there, not working but thinking.  He had seen his parents, his whole family, in the Mirror.  Dumbledore had said that the Mirror shows the "deepest, most desperate desires" but if Ron was right as well, and the Mirror could show the future, the only way it could have shown his future was to show him his death and, that afterwards, he'd be reunited with his family.  _Neither can live while the other survives._  Maybe he could only kill Voldemort by dying himself.  Once he'd had that thought, Harry was surprised at how peaceful he felt.  If he had to die to stop Voldemort, to protect his friends, it was worth it.  _There are some things worth dying for._  Sirius's comment from when Mr. Weasley had been bitten came back to him and, for the first time, Harry could understand how Sirius might believe that rescuing Harry was worth any cost.  He went down to dinner feeling better than he had in a very long time and the happy smile he gave Ron and Hermione seemed to reassure them as well.

 

"I think you should give it a go," Harry told Ron.  "About Head Boy, I mean.  Quidditch Captain, too; you're loads better at knowing which plays are good and which ones are rubbish than I am."

 

"I agree," Hermione said.  She gave Harry a bright smile.  "Thinking things through?"

 

"Realizing how important my friends are to me, and how much they give me," Harry answered her.  "For all I complain about the bad breaks I've had, I'm really pretty lucky."

 

Harry's good mood lasted until the _Daily Prophet_ was delivered Tuesday morning.  The front page's headline screamed _WEREWOLVES ATTACK MUGGLES_.  The story was every bit as horrifying as the headline.  The night before had been the full moon and the Death Eaters had taken advantage of that fact.  Four Muggle families had been attacked by werewolves; the Dark Mark floated over all four houses.  Five of the Muggles were dead and two were bitten and would transform at the next full moon if they survived.  One of the werewolves had also been killed.  Harry felt terribly guilty; the attacks would continue until he killed Voldemort.

 

Tuesday night was another training session with Snape.  When he got to the training, Ron and Hermione were also there.  "You need to begin practicing with more than one person at a time," Snape said.  "They need to learn how to protect you from the other Death Eaters while you're fighting Voldemort.  We'll split our time between the two types of fighting."  The session was hard and Harry was sore by the end of it, but he welcomed every bruise and sore muscle if it meant he had a better chance against Voldemort.

 

The attacks were the main topic of conversation as the week went on.  The victims might have been Muggles, but there were enough students who had family members or friends who were also Muggles who were worried about them.  The students who believed that purebloods were better than anyone else were unconcerned; in some cases, they felt it was no more than the victims deserved for not having magical blood.  The _Daily Prophet_ was printing stories and letters demanding that Fudge's policies be examined or that he be replaced entirely.  His insistence for a year that Voldemort had not come back, although it had kept people calm while they believed him, was now backfiring.  People wanted to know why nothing had been done to try to stop Voldemort before he started attacking.  Harry was still receiving letters from people asking what they could do to fight Voldemort.  Every day, Harry sent Hedwig with a full load of them to Remus for the Order.

 

Harry was now spending all of his free time studying the books Snape had given him for his special lessons.  He found himself dreaming about the different spells he was studying; all too frequently he was killed by them.  The fact that his death in these dreams seemed to lead to victory meant he was becoming less concerned with the damage the practices were doing to him and more concerned with how well he was able to accomplish the objective Snape had set him for that exercise.  During one training session, in which he had been "killed" five times but had succeeded in his objective three times, Snape finally called a halt.

 

"You're not trying!" Snape yelled.  "You're supposed to survive these exercises, not just accomplish your objective!  You're not working at it!"

 

"Yes, I am," Harry said, quietly but intensely.  "I'm not going to survive Voldemort; the best I can hope for is to bring him down with me.  When I'm accomplishing my objective all the time, then I can spare attention for survival."

 

Snape looked utterly shocked.  After a minute, he asked quietly, "Is that what the prophecy says?  That you must die to stop him?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "No, but I don't think surviving him is possible.  He's too strong, too powerful, and worrying about surviving him could prevent me from doing what it takes to destroy him.  I'm the only one who can do it."  When Snape started to argue, Harry cut him off, "That's what the prophecy says."  Harry stopped talking before he started whining about how unfair life is; he'd known that since he was very small.  He made to leave but Snape stopped him.

 

"If you believe that, why are you working so hard at everything?  Why bother?"

 

That was a very good question, Harry thought.  He'd never looked at it from that angle.  He finally answered, "I reckon I can't quite give up the hope that I'm wrong; that I'm more than a weapon."

 

Snape looked at Harry very intensely for a few moments.  He then pointed at the door.  "Get out of here and don't come back until you're ready to win!" he snarled at Harry.  "I won't waste my time on someone who doesn't expect to win."

 

Harry sighed and left.  When he got back to the common room, Hermione looked up in surprise.  "You're never back this early," she said.  "What happened?"

 

"I don't know," Harry answered, feeling defeated.  "Snape decided it was a waste of time teaching me."  Harry didn't want to discuss it anymore, so he refused to tell her why Snape had given up on him.  He stomped up to bed.

 

On Saturday morning, a special prefects' meeting was called.  It lasted for about an hour and, afterwards, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were kept for a meeting with McGonagall and Dumbledore.  "I don't know why," Colin told Harry when he got back to the common room.  "Professor McGonagall just said there was something important she needed to discuss with them."

 

Harry worked on his Potions essay while waiting for his friends to return.  It was nearly two hours later when they returned, looking grim.

 

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, grabbing Harry under his arm and heaving him up.

 

"What?  What's up?"  Harry asked, his heart in his throat.  What had gone wrong now?

 

"Room of Requirement," Hermione said shortly.  Her eyes were red-rimmed but her expression said that anyone standing in her way was in trouble.

 

Harry followed the other three to the Room of Requirement.  Ron walked in front of the door; when they walked in, it had provided a cross between the common room and a section of the library.  Once they were all in the room, Hermione locked and warded the door. 

 

When that was done, Ginny walked up to Harry and slapped him in the face.  Hard.  "How dare you?" she asked angrily.

 

"Huh?  What did I do?"  He looked to Ron and Hermione for answers, but he saw the same anger on all three faces.  "What's happened?" he asked, feeling panicked.

 

"Did you really tell Professor Snape that you don't think you'll survive Voldemort?" Hermione demanded.

 

Harry had expected that, if he'd told them what he'd been thinking lately, they'd be upset.  He hadn't expected them to be angry with him.  "I was making the point that his priorities were off.  He was expecting me to concentrate on surviving; I was concentrating on what I have to do."  When he realized the three of them weren't calming down at all, he felt himself start to panic.  "I don't want to die; I want to live!  But I have to kill Voldemort and my surviving him can't be my first priority!  It's like in chess.  You know, Ron, sometimes you have to sacrifice a piece to win the game.  And stopping him is something worth dying for."

 

Ron and Ginny flinched at Harry's repeating what Sirius had said to them last Christmas while they waited for news on their father.  "Sit down, Harry," Ron said, sitting down in one of the squashy armchairs.  Once Harry sat down on the sofa, Ginny sat down next to him while Hermione slung her overstuffed book bag on a table.  "When Snape told us what you'd said when training last night," Ron continued, "he said he doesn't believe you'll be able to defeat You-Know . . ." Ron stopped, then snarled, "No, he doesn't think you can defeat Riddle unless you expect to survive.  Dumbledore and Lupin both agree."

 

Harry flushed as he realized that the second meeting had been about him.  "Well, how am I supposed to do that?  The best I've ever been able to do is stop him for a bit, and I've only managed that by being very lucky."

 

"You're not ready yet," Hermione snapped.  "That doesn't mean you won't be, but you'll never be ready if you've already given up."

 

"It's not like you'll be doing this alone," Ginny added.  "We will do whatever we can, whatever you need."

 

"And I'll get you killed, too," Harry said, staring down at his hands.

 

"Stop it!" Hermione said.  "Enough!  You're going to put your energies into destroying Voldemort, right?"  When Harry nodded, she went on, "Then, while you're protecting and rescuing all of us, we'll be protecting and rescuing you.  It's very simple, really, and, Harry, we're not asking you.  We're telling you.  It's not your fault; it's not your decision; you can't do anything about it, so just accept it!"

 

"Yeah," Ron said.  "But I'd say it a lot simpler and a lot more confused."  That got him a bright smile from Hermione.

 

"What about your families?" Harry asked.  "Because you're my friends, they're at risk.  What about . . ."

 

"My family," Ron said bluntly, "is right in the middle of this war.  We're not in it because of you; we're in it because it's right.  Whatever happens to us is not your fault."

 

"In fact," Ginny added, "you're our best chance of getting out of this alive."

 

"As for my parents," Hermione said, "they're still angry with me about my not telling them things but they're quite proud that I'm in the middle of this, fighting for what's right."  She leaned forward.  "Harry, let other people help you save people; that's what friends are for."

 

Harry sat looking at them.  He couldn't say anything, he was so completely overwhelmed.  Fortunately, the others seemed to understand.  They gave him a few minutes to pull himself together.

 

"Now, let Hermione tell you what she's found," Ron finally said.  "She's been ready to burst since last night.  Tell him, Hermione."

 

Hermione pulled a stack of parchment from her bag.  "I started with the fact that he marked you as his equal.  You're right that he appears to be more powerful than you but, when it comes to raw power, I don't think it's true."  When Harry started to object, Hermione pulled out her wand.  "Be quiet or I'll hex you.  Once I go through all of this, we'll discuss it, all right?  Now," she continued, lowering her wand when Harry made it plain he wouldn't interrupt again, "he has decades of experience on you; that's one of his advantages.  The other one is that he has all of his Death Eaters' power he can use.  That's one of the functions of the Dark Mark; it acts as a way for Voldemort to take power from his Death Eaters.  I want to ask Professor Snape if he's aware of that."

 

"He wasn't," Harry said, remembering.  "He knows now; I told him that when I took over his body that time."

 

"Oh, good," Hermione said.  "More confirmation.  Now, I have an experiment to try.  Hold these."  She handed Harry four rings.  They were each different; two were for women and two were for men.  She had Harry put one on his right ring finger and hold the other three in his right hand.  Then, she pointed her wand at Harry and said "_Phoenix Signum_".  The rings got warm for a minute, as did Harry's chest.  "Do you feel OK?"  When Harry nodded, she took the rings back and put one of them on her finger.  "Now . . ."

 

Harry immediately felt a connection from the ring he was wearing to Hermione.  He could feel her magic on the other end and he could tell that he could take all of it as his own.  His stomach churning, he yelled, "Take it off!  Take it off!" as he ripped his ring off his hand.  "What have you done?"

 

"I told you we should have discussed this with him first," Ginny said, glaring at Hermione.

 

"It's OK, mate," Ron said, patting Harry's shoulder.  "We want to help you.  That's why there's four; one for each of us."

 

"Harry, that's why I used rings," Hermione said, looking horrified.  "The Dark Mark is permanent; it can't be removed.  His followers can never change their minds or leave him.  These," she held up her ring, which she had taken off, "can be removed.  If we think what you're doing is wrong, we can just take off the ring and that's it.  We can change our minds."

 

"You're mental!   It, it feels too good.  It would be too easy to just . . . use it."

 

"We trust you," Ginny said.  "Now, you have to trust us."

 

Harry finally nodded, still feeling rather sick.  "I'll keep the ring, but I won't wear it."

 

"Harry," Hermione said timidly, "it works better if you wear it all the time."  When he looked at her sharply, she said, "If you start abusing it, we'll take ours off and that will be that."

 

"Yeah, we don't want our grandkids fighting a new Dark Lord with messy hair and glasses."  Ron grinned at him but Harry was afraid that was exactly what would happen.

 

It was a relief to have the first Quidditch match of the spring that afternoon.  It was Slytherin against Hufflepuff.  It wasn't the best game; even with cheating, Slytherin was by far the better team, but it was a relief to be able to stop thinking about Voldemort and Death Eaters.  After Slytherin won 210-40, Harry went for a walk to Hagrid's.

 

Hagrid wasn't at his hut.  Harry suspected he was in the forest visiting his brother, but Fang was there and was very happy to see him.  Harry had a peaceful hour playing fetch with the huge boarhound.  Hagrid finally returned and told Harry all about how well Grawp was doing and how much he was enjoying socializing with the other intelligent creatures he was meeting.  Harry promised to go with Hagrid for a visit as soon as he had time.

 

Just as Harry was getting ready to leave, Hagrid put his hand on Harry's shoulder, stopping him.  "Harry, I know the others were goin' to talk with ye abou' this, and they'll probably do it better than me.  Getting' rid of Voldemort by yer dying isn't right.  Ye have to believe you can win.  There's too many of us who love ye; ye know that, right?" 

 

Harry nodded, touched that Hagrid would bring it up.  "It's not that I want to die, Hagrid," he reassured his large friend.  "It's just that, as Dumbledore says, there's things worse than dying.  Letting Voldemort win is one of them."  When Hagrid started scowling, Harry hurried to say, "But Professor Snape is teaching me how to win, so don't worry about me, all right?"

 

After insisting for several more minutes that it was important that Harry survive, Hagrid finally let Harry go.  As he walked back to the castle, he decided never again to say anything less than optimistic to anyone on his side.  Any hint that he didn't think he could beat Voldemort and survive seemed too traumatic for his friends.

 


	12. Storm Clouds Approaching

It turned out that using the rings was much more difficult for Harry than it first appeared.  If he was wearing his ring, he could feel the power as soon as one of the others put theirs on, but using that power was another thing altogether.  It required a lot of practice to pull power from the others and more practice to do so without leaving them on the floor unconscious.  Hermione wanted to spend every minute not in classes, doing homework or prefect duties on the practice.  She and Ron had a huge argument about it, the first real fight they'd had since they'd started dating.  It was three very long days before they talked to one another again.  While Harry got more experience working with the rings, Hermione enchanted more.

 

"Why?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

 

"I think every member of the DA will want one," Hermione answered.  "Others might as well, but we'll start with the DA."

 

"And if they don't want one?  Or don't want to wear it?"

 

Hermione shrugged.  "It has to be a free choice, Harry.  Even the Dark Mark must be taken willingly; Voldemort can't just brand anyone with it.  The Death Eater has to be willing to give him that connection.  If someone doesn't want one, or won't wear it, they don't."

 

"And we'll know their real loyalties," Ron added.

 

"No, we won't," Hermione said, to Harry's relief.  "They might disagree, or they might be scared, or they may just not want that type of link.  A lot of people could view this as . . . erm, a bad thing."  She looked over at Harry with a guilty expression.  "Harry wouldn't abuse the power the rings give him, but it would be really easy to do and some people might not want to risk it.  While being willing to die fighting by his side," she continued before Ron could argue.

 

At Hermione's insistence, Harry wore the ring all the time.  It made him nervous and he was very careful not to pull anything through his ring while doing magic unless he had discussed it with the others first.  During his next training session with Snape, he discovered he was so scared about hurting the others that he wasn't even using his own full power.

 

"Potter, you can do better than this!" Snape yelled at him after breaking through a shield three times that would have stopped him the week before.  "You claim you're trying to survive.  Why are you pulling back?"

 

Harry tried to come up with a safe answer and promised himself that he would leave the ring off for future training sessions.  "There was a technique I was practicing and . . ."

 

Snape hadn't been listening to him.  He'd cast some type of charm that highlighted his ring.  "What is that?"

 

"It was an idea of Hermione's," Harry answered, hoping to keep all of them out of trouble.  "Something she's experimenting with."

 

Snape stared at him.  "I should hope she's not experimenting with something that bears a disturbing resemblance to the Dark Mark.  Now tell me the truth; what is it?"

 

"It enables me to share the power of anyone who wears a ring with the same charm on it."

 

"How many of them are there?" Snape asked.  His face had taken on a calculating expression.

 

"There were three others, but Hermione just charmed several more.  I didn't count."  Harry looked at Snape, feeling very nervous.  "Are we in trouble?"

 

"Not yet.  The first time someone put on one of the subject rings after you put on the master, did it hurt?"

 

Subject?  Master?  Harry's stomach squirmed in guilt and fear.  He _wasn't_ going to turn into Voldemort; he just wasn't.  "No."

 

"Does it hurt to put on one of the subject rings?  And, no, I would strongly advise you never to put one of them on."

 

Harry shook his head.  "Or if it does, they were really good at hiding it.  I saw the first three when they were put on.  I think Hermione might have given a few more of them out; I can feel more power there, but I didn't see them put on."

 

"Can they be taken off?"

 

"Of course," Harry said, shocked.  "Otherwise, I never would have let them be used."  He looked down at his.  "I almost didn't anyway; it's too close to Voldemort."

 

"Don't say his name, at least not in my presence," Snape said, but there was no force behind his words.  "And it's not."  When Harry looked up at him, Snape answered the implicit question.  "The Dark Mark hurts when it is received.  Most of us faint from the pain.  He feels pleasure when it is given; he makes that very clear.  Finally, it cannot be removed.  Once you are Marked, you are his."  For some time, Snape seemed to be lost in memory; he certainly wasn't paying attention to anything in the room.  He finally shook his head.  "Does Miss Granger have extras?"

 

"I don't know.  You could ask her."

 

"I will.  In the meantime, may I assume your poor performance is because you're refusing to pull power through the ring?"  When Harry nodded, Snape scowled.  "That will have to change but, for the moment, remove yours.  You need to be using everything you have; half measures will get you killed."

 

The training session continued for the normal amount of time.  Once Harry removed his ring and started working full out, he discovered he wasn't as good as he had been before, but much better.  When Snape finally called a halt, he asked about that.

 

"I would have to examine it more closely, but I suspect you're pulling some power through that ring all the time.  Even with it off, you have that gifted power."  Snape looked at him intently.  "Potter, be careful with that ring.  Don't take it off; don't let anyone else get it.  Your friends are gifting you with their power, but anyone who wears that ring can use it.  It's a very dangerous artefact."  The Potions Master's eyes glittered dangerously.  "It may also win us this war but not if it leaves your possession."

 

"Now, for something even more foolish," Snape continued.  His expression had turned sour.  "Tomorrow, you are to report to Professor Dumbledore's office after the evening meal.  Bring your cloak; you will be going by Floo elsewhere."

 

"Do you know why?  Where?" Harry asked.

 

"If I do, I'm not to tell you," Snape answered with a sneer. 

 

The next day was a Hogsmeade visit.  That morning, Harry sent Ron and Hermione on their way to Hogsmeade.  Hermione's parents had relented and were again allowing her to go to Hogsmeade.  They were also, Hermione had told Harry, keeping in regular contact with Professor McGonagall about the general danger, the danger for Hermione specifically and how she was behaving in school.

 

Harry spent the day in the common room, trying to catch up on all of his studying.  Whenever a member of the DA would walk through, he would try to see if they were wearing one of the rings.  Since he was trying to be discreet about it, he couldn't always tell, but he did see several of them around.  He couldn't decide how he felt about it.  Snape's seeming acceptance of them had eased his mind a lot, but they still worried him.  His warning about keeping it safe had him checking his finger constantly to make sure it was still there.

 

Professor McGonagall was waiting for Harry in Dumbledore's office that evening.  She walked to the fireplace and threw her handful of Floo Powder into the grate.  "Follow right behind me, Potter," she said right before she said, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," and disappeared into green fire.

 

Harry grinned at Dumbledore.  He grabbed his own handful and followed.  He'd wanted to see Fred and George's store for almost a year now; he couldn't believe he was finally able to do so.

 

He arrived in what looked like an office.  An office owned by two of the biggest pranksters in the last two decades.  Fred stepped forward, reaching out to shake Harry's hand.  "Excellent!  We hoped you wouldn't get lost again."

 

"Again?" McGonagall asked, sounding horrified.

 

"It only happened the one time," Harry said.  "The first time I used Floo Powder.  I haven't had any problems since.  So, show me around."

 

"Want to make sure your money's being put to good use?" Fred asked, grinning.

 

"You invested money in this place?" McGonagall asked.  She was trying to look stern and forbidding, but Harry could see a smile trying to break out.

 

Fred nodded.  "We owe our shop to Harry's unexpected benevolence.  Why'd you think we were so determined to get him here?"

 

"I finally got the last customer out," George said, walking into the office.  "I put a charm up so the shop looks dark and empty; you can browse around to your heart's content."  The twins led Harry out into their shop and began showing him everything at once.  Harry's head was spinning but he loved every minute of it.

 

At first glance, the shop looked like any other shop.  There were shelves with various products on them, each one labelled with name and price.  As Harry started looking through the shop, he found things weren't quite as he first thought.  Some of the products would complain when he passed them by, begging to be bought.  Others would hop off the shelves and follow Harry around, asking for his money.  If one was on sale, its label would flash with the sale price, informing Harry what a good bargain it was. 

 

When Harry pointed out that no tricks had been played on him, George shrugged.  "We considered it," he said, "but we want our customers to come back and playing tricks on them might scare the more timid ones away.  You should have been here this summer, when all the students were shopping.  The din was incredible."

 

After almost half an hour, Fred and George exchanged glances, after which George pulled Professor McGonagall over to show her something that would temporarily transfigure whoever ate it.  Fred quietly pulled Harry into the office.  Remus was sitting there looking worried.  Harry groaned.  "Is this why Dumbledore finally let me come here?"

 

"He's all yours," Fred said, grinning at Remus.  "Good luck."  Fred walked out of the office.

 

Remus gave Harry a penetrating look.  "Harry, about what you said to Severus . . ."

 

"I don't have a death wish!" Harry interrupted.  "I don't want to die; I don't plan on dying.  But, I have a madman after me and pretending it couldn't happen is stupid!  Snape took what I said way out of context."  He continued quietly, "I never expected such an uproar."

 

Remus smiled gently.  "I suspect not; otherwise, you wouldn't have said anything.  Nevertheless, Severus believes you were saying nothing more than the truth.  Answer me honestly, do you believe you'll survive killing Voldemort?"

 

Harry sighed.  "I want to.  But he's got all the advantages; he's stronger, he's more experienced, he's more ruthless, he's got the Death Eaters feeding him power . . ." Harry trailed off as Remus raised his left hand.  On the pinkie finger sat a ring, a ring Harry had a sinking feeling he'd gotten from Hermione.

 

"He has his Death Eaters, yes," Remus said.  "You have your friends.  As far as the rest, although it may be true, I think there's more to you than any of us know.  I believe you can beat him and survive.  However," and Remus's expression turned grim, "it will only happen if you believe it can.  If you fight him believing that you'll die, you probably will.  You have a number of people who believe you can win and want to help you do so.  Do you want to let them down?"

 

"I don't want anyone else to die.  And I don't want . . . Power corrupts.  How can I know the power I'm being offered won't corrupt me?"  Harry knew everyone thought they were helping, and they were, but he was left feeling miserable.

 

"People die," Remus said flatly.  "It's not something you can stop.  What you can try to prevent is people dying unnecessarily or people dying for no purpose.  As far as the other, you'll have to trust us, Harry.  We're gifting you with this power, but we're well aware of the possibilities of abuse.  If it happens, the gift will be withdrawn.  Immediately.  In the hope that a good strong wake-up call will stop the slide."  At Harry's dubious expression, Remus smiled.  "I don't think it will be necessary.  You're a good person, Harry.  As long as you remember that you're not perfect, you'll be fine.  Now, let's go back out into the shop.  It's pretty impressive.  Sirius was looking forward to seeing it, and James would have loved it."

 

On Monday morning, Snape handed back the latest Potions essays.  While Harry sighed at his "P", Hermione pulled a small note out of her essay and slipped it into her bag.  "I'll read it later," she whispered to Harry.

 

She pulled the note out of her bag in the Great Hall, while Ron stuffed most of a chicken sandwich into his mouth.  "Oh, it just says that Ron and I are supposed to join you for tomorrow's training.  That sounds wonderful; I know you've been learning a lot."

 

"Combat magic," Harry said.  "Yeah, it's wonderful learning dozens of ways to kill, maim and torture people."

 

"Ber u n em," Ron said through a mouthful.  When Hermione glared at him, he swallowed hard and repeated, "Better you than them.  We didn't start this war, but we're not just going to let them win it."

 

Harry led the other two to the training room on Tuesday night.  Snape was already there, waiting for them.  "Miss Granger, how much does it take to enchant a ring?"

 

"Erm," Hermione said, startled.

 

"Yes, we know all about your little rings and what they can do.  You've scarcely been keeping them secret."

 

"No, that's true," Hermione said.  "Once I have a new ring, and Harry, so I can use his, it takes less than five minutes."

 

Snape sneered at her and pulled a small object from his robes.  It was a silver ring, shaped like a snake with green eyes.  "I need to observe the process."

 

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, wide-eyed.  Harry handed her his own ring and she cast the spell.  She then returned the rings to their owners.  "There you go, Professor."

 

Snape waited for Harry to put his ring on and then put his own on.  He waited a moment, looking at the ring intently.  When nothing happened, at least that Harry could see, Snape seemed satisfied and removed the ring.  "You two, leave yours on," he ordered Ron and Hermione.  "We have a lot of work to do."

 

Snape worked them hard that night, going through several different scenarios.  Sometimes, he had Harry pulling power through the rings and, at other times, he told Harry not to try.  When the session was over, he nodded.  "Not too dreadful."  As he stood up, preparing to leave, he suddenly asked Hermione, "Why rings?"

 

Hermione blushed.  "I wanted something removable.  Something permanent had far too great a risk of abuse, no matter how much I trust Harry.  I'd considered several different things, but when I thought of rings . . ." She looked very embarrassed.  "I remembered a series of fantasy novels I'd read right before I received my Hogwarts letter, the first one.  A ring was important in that one, too, and it looked at some of the same issues.  It . . . felt right."

 

Snape smirked at her.  "Children's novels?  We're going to defeat the Dark Lord with children's novels?  How fitting?"

 

"They're not really children's books," Hermione argued.  "They're actually quite famous."

 

Snape shook his head, but didn't say anything more as he swept out of the room.  Harry and Ron stared at Hermione.  "How many people have put the two together?" Harry asked her.

 

"Erm," Hermione said.  "Well, all of the Muggle-borns, actually.  I've been getting a lot of teasing about it.  I didn't realize how popular they were."

 

Ron laughed.  "That's what I love about you; always going to the books."  He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.  "Can I read them?  I want to know how your mind works."

 

Hermione smiled brightly at him.  "Of course.  I don't have my copies here but I can ask my mum to send them.  She'd love knowing you were interested in my books."

 

As Harry followed the other two out, he heard Ron mutter, "That's not all I'm interested in."  Harry thought he should have been upset for her, but Hermione sniggered at her boyfriend, and grabbed his hand to hold.

 

As Harry was sitting in the library working on an essay for Transfigurations on Saturday afternoon, Blaise came up to him and sat down at his table.  "Where are your minions?" he asked, looking around.  When Harry looked confused, Blaise said, "Weasley and Granger?"

 

"They're taking a walk around the lake looking for some plant we're studying in Herbology," Harry said, smirking.  "Since it only grows near the equator in a desert, I think they'll be gone a while.  Should I get them?"

 

Blaise sniggered.  "No, please, spare me that.  I wanted to let you know; Draco was called home this weekend.  He won't be back until Tuesday at the earliest."

 

Harry thought about the calendar Hermione had made up for him with the Quarter and Cross-Quarter days on it.  "It's not time for that," he finally said.

 

Blaise shook his head.  "Not for that.  His mum had a baby boy yesterday and he's going home for that.  I thought you should know.  Things are really getting serious?" he asked, twisting a ring around his right ring finger.

 

Harry nodded.  "As is everyone around us," he said, nodding at Blaise's ring.  It was gold, with a green stone with a snake carved into it.

 

Blaise shrugged.  "If Riddle wins, I'm dead and so is my family.  I'll do what it takes to keep that from happening.  And, when I come out on the winning side, I expect those who were in charge to remember me."

 

Harry shook his head and laughed.  "I hardly think we could forget you."

 

It was Wednesday before Draco returned to school.  Although he'd been in good spirits throughout the year, this trip left him in a sour, angry mood.  Daphne reported that he'd told Pansy that he didn't understand why little Orion had needed to be born.  He was perfectly capable of handling all of his responsibilities, new and old. 

 

Harry seemed to be spending all of his time worrying these days.  Between keeping up with his classes, running the DA, the extra training with Snape and Quidditch practices, which had started up again, he never seemed to have time to breathe.  On Sunday morning, he took the mirror with him to the Room of Requirement, locked and warded it, and then called Sirius's name.

 

"Hi," Sirius said, smiling.  "I haven't heard from you in a while.  Except for the parchments we've been sending back and forth.  How are you doing?"

 

"Overwhelmed?" Harry answered.

 

"Tell me about it," Sirius said, sounding sympathetic.

 

Harry did.  He poured out everything that had been bothering him in the last several months:  about how he thought he might have to die to destroy Voldemort but that he couldn't discuss it with anyone because of how upset they'd get, about the rings and how the power and trust they represented scared him, about Malfoy and how no one knew what was going on there.  He talked for well over an hour and Sirius listened without interrupting.  Harry finally stopped talking when he felt as if someone had emptied his brain.

 

After a moment, giving Harry a chance to start up again if he needed to, Sirius said, "You've got a lot going on.  Unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do.  I probably couldn't do much even if I were there; most of what's going on is just stuff you have to live with.  As far as needing to die to destroy Voldemort, I hate to say it but it's a possibility."

 

"Thank you," Harry said, feeling more relieved than he had since Snape had blown up at him for mentioning the idea.  "It's not what I want, but I can't ignore it either."

 

"The problem is that they have all their hopes pinned on you.  Losing you, even if it does destroy Voldemort, is not something they're going to be comfortable thinking about.  At the same time," Sirius broke off and thought for a moment.  "I'd try not to think about it.  If it happens, it happens and you've accepted it, but dwelling on it will just drive you and everyone else mad.  Let's see now, these rings.  Tell me about them."

 

Harry told him everything he knew about them, including how many people seemed to have them.  When Sirius asked, he also described how it felt when someone put one on; how he could feel their power.  "I think, if I had enough experience with these, I'd be able to tell who had put it on.  And," Harry flushed, thinking how shamed he was by what he was going to say, "it feels really, really good when they do.  It almost hurts when someone takes his or her ring off.  I haven't told this to anyone here; I don't know what it means."

 

Sirius was quiet for a while.  When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and sombre, "I think it's a very good idea that this spell was done with rings, which can be removed and disenchanted, and not with a tattoo or similar permanent mark.  I don't think you're in much danger of going Dark but that would be quite the temptation."  Sirius looked at Harry intently.  "For now, they're useful.  I'd use them as long as the safeguards stay in place.  But I'd disenchant them all when their purpose has been served; you're right that it's a lot of power in one man's hands."

 

"As for Malfoy," Sirius continued, "they could be performing any number of rituals.  What really worries me is the baby.  It leads me to believe that Draco won't be around much longer.  Not that would be a huge loss, he's a big git here as well, but something tells me he doesn't know that.  It's something to bring up."

 

"If they haven't figured it out already," Harry agreed.  "Thanks for listening to me.  I needed someone to just listen to me."  Harry smiled.  "I feel a lot better."

 

"We live to serve," Sirius said, grinning.  "Next time, don't let so much time go between chats."

 

Harry agreed and closed down the mirror.  He really did feel much better, so much so that, when he went down to the Great Hall to eat, he managed to out-eat Ron.

 

At the next training session with Snape, which both Hermione and Ron joined again, Harry was trying to prevent Snape and Ron from disabling him and taking him away when his scar suddenly began to burn.  Harry put up a shield and tried Occlumency, even trying to pull power from his ring, but the vision he was having became clearer the harder he tried.

 

He was sitting at a desk in a stone room.  He thought it was in Azkaban, but he wasn't certain.  He was giving instructions for an attack to a group of people, none of whom he recognized, who were shabbily dressed and rather ill-looking.  In front of him was a list of about a dozen names.  Four of them stood out sharply in his mind:  Boot, Creevey, Finch-Fletchley . . . and Granger.  Knowing that the instructions were incomplete, Harry pushed as hard as he could.  He was just able to choke out, "You may go."  Voldemort pushed back, nearly as hard and the vision ended and Harry blacked out.

 

When Harry opened his eyes again, he was in the Hospital Wing.  Ron and Hermione were sitting in chairs next to his bed, looking pale and scared.  "What's gone wrong now?" Harry asked them.  His voice was much more hoarse than he expected it to be.

 

Hermione leaned over and picked up his hand while Ron turned and called for Madam Pomfrey.  "You scared us!" Hermione told him.  "First, you collapsed, holding your head.  We all thought you were having a vision . . ."

 

"I was," Harry confirmed.

 

"But then you started screaming.  No words, just screams.  And a minute after that, Professor Snape's Dark Mark began burning.  He had to run to report to Voldemort and we brought you here."  Hermione's eyes were wide; she looked about to panic.

 

"You've been here about two hours," Ron told him.  "We haven't heard what's going on with Snape yet?"

 

"That's Professor Snape to you lot," Madam Pomfrey said.  She shooed Ron and Hermione away from Harry and checked him over.  "There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, but you'll stay here until the morning so I can keep an eye on you."  She turned to Ron and Hermione and said, "You two need to go back to your dorms; it's almost curfew."

 

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said.  "I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore and he may want them here while I do so."

 

"Hmph," she said.  "I'll let him know that you need to speak with him, but if he needs you two," she turned to Ron and Hermione, "he'll have to ask for you.  Go on now; you can see him in the morning."

 

Harry dozed off.  When he woke again, the Headmaster was sitting beside his bed.  "There you are.  Madam Pomfrey said she thought you might wake again.  How are you feeling?"

 

Harry thought about it.  "My head doesn't hurt, but I think that's because Madam Pomfrey gave me some potions."

 

"And so she did," Dumbledore looked at Harry through his half-moon glasses.  "What did you see?"

 

Harry told him everything he could remember about the contents of the vision, including all of the names he could remember.  He emphasized that four of them were the families of Muggle-born members of the DA.

 

"Well, most of our mysteries are cleared up," Dumbledore said.  "I will get the Order to strengthen protections on those families . . ."

 

"Don't bother," Snape said harshly as he limped into the Hospital Wing.

 

"Severus, what happened to you?" Dumbledore asked, looking alarmed.

 

"The Dark Lord pulled on the Marks to push Potter out of his head and to recover.  I don't believe he meant to summon us as well, but that was the result.  He changed the attacks; this month's attacks will be Ministry employees and their families.  I don't know the names of the werewolves he's convinced to attack these people but it will be that again."

 

Dumbledore looked at Harry.  "Harry, did you hear any names?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "No, but I'd recognize them if I saw them.  I got a good look at their faces."

 

Dumbledore nodded.  "We'll try to get you photographs.  If we know who it is to be ahead of time, we have a better chance at stopping them."

 

At their Friday training session, with just Harry, Snape handed him a pile of photographs.  Harry went through them carefully.  He was able to identify three of the werewolves from his vision, but no others.  Snape didn't seem very surprised by this; when Harry asked, he just said that many werewolves never registered.

 

The game against Ravenclaw that weekend was a relief.  Both teams had been practicing hard as soon as the weather had made it possible, and they were both evenly matched.  The game lasted the entire afternoon and finally, when Harry caught the Snitch snatching it just before the other Seeker got it, the match ended 420-270.  Everyone in the stands had screamed themselves hoarse; neither team had been up by more than thirty points the entire game.

 

Snape cancelled their next training session without an explanation.  Harry wondered if it had to do with Ron, but realized it had more to do with the full moon that night.  There would be attacks tonight, he knew, and hoped the Order could provide sufficient protection.

 

The morning's _Daily Prophet_ had the story.  There had been fourteen attacks throughout Britain the night before.  With two exceptions, the victims were Ministry employees, most of them from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  The Order had obviously been out trying to protect the people at risk, but there were too many potential victims for the Order to be able to cover all of them.  The _Prophet_ reported that the Auror Department had been warned about the probable attacks but the head of that department hadn't believed the warning.  Two werewolves were captured and three were killed; however, nine people were killed and six more were bitten.  They would survive, but they would be werewolves themselves.  The story made the ironic comment that the laws governing werewolves were likely to become more humane, with so many in the Ministry now affected by them.

 

As the week wore on, there were more stories about the attack.  Most of them attacked the Aurors for ignoring the Order's warning, others blamed the Ministry and still others blamed the laws governing werewolves.  One witch in Salisbury told a reporter, "It's no wonder they're joining You-Know-Who.  If I had to live like they do, I'd join him, too."

 


	13. Training to Win

On Friday, while the class was filing out of Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to stop for a moment.  "You're not in trouble, Potter," she reassured him.  "The Headmaster asked me to give you this note."  She handed him a sealed note that had nothing on the outside.  "You're not to open it unless you're alone.  Now, join your classmates."

 

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said as he ran to catch up with Ron and Hermione.  It wasn't until after his last class of the day that he was able to be alone for a few minutes to read the note. 

 

Once he broke the seal and opened it, he recognized Snape's handwriting immediately.  _Wear your Invisibility Cloak and meet me at Hagrid's at the usual time_, was all that it said.  Harry wondered what kind of training he was about to receive.

 

He was at Hagrid's five minutes early, holding the cloak against the brisk breeze that had sprung up as the sun had set.  Snape was already there, talking quietly with Hagrid.  Harry didn't know how, but Snape knew as soon as he got there.  "Prompt.  Very well, Mr. Potter, follow me.  Good night, Hagrid."

 

Snape set off through the Forbidden Forest at a brisk pace; Harry was hard-pressed to keep up with him without losing the protection of his father's cloak.  It was nearly half an hour later when they reached a large clearing.  More of a meadow, really, Harry thought, looking around.  The ground was carpeted in wildflowers, which added a heady perfume to the air; it was a lovely, peaceful spot that Harry thought Snape didn't fit into at all.  Snape turned around, his robes billowing behind him.  "You can take off the cloak now, Potter.  This area is thoroughly warded against our being seen or stumbled upon."

 

Harry removed his cloak and folded it carefully onto a nearby rock.  "What are we doing here tonight?" he asked.

 

Snape sighed.  "In reviewing what you have learned, in Defence class and in my sessions, Professor Dumbledore pointed out that you do not yet know how to Apparate.  Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't teach you until after your seventeenth birthday.  In fact, all seventh years have the opportunity to take a class in the subject.  However, if something should go wrong and you are captured by the Dark Lord and his other followers, your knowing how to Apparate could save your life.  So, we are here for you to learn to Apparate."

 

"I thought no one could Apparate at Hogwarts," Harry said.  Hermione had certainly repeated that often enough, quoting her beloved _Hogwarts: A History_.

 

"No one can.  The only way to break through the Anti-Apparation wards would be to use an enormous amount of power-more power than any wizard living currently possesses."  Snape scowled.  "However, we are currently outside Hogwarts' wards.  The Headmaster thoroughly warded this clearing this afternoon; no one will be able to see us while we are here.  Nor will you be able to Apparate outside the wards.  If, for some brainless reason, you try, you will find yourself stopped at the edge of the clearing.  Any other questions?"  Snape's eyes glittered dangerously.

 

When Harry shook his head, Snape began lecturing on Apparation.  He said that Harry could pick up the theory on his own.  In fact, if Harry wanted his Apparation licence, he would have to study the theory as it was on the test; however, Snape wasn't going to waste his valuable time on it.  He did explain the process completely.  Harry thought it sounded easy, although he suspected putting it into practice would be more difficult.

 

"What you do," Snape explained, "is picture a spot in your head, in as much detail as you possibly can.  Then, you push yourself through space until you are there.  The reason people splinch themselves is that they either don't picture their destination clearly enough or they don't picture themselves clearly enough; you must be fully aware and fully visualize your entire body."

 

"Can't people Apparate to a place they've never been before?"

 

"That is a more advanced topic.  What is important for now is that you learn the basics.  To begin with, Apparate to that stump."

 

The first several times Harry tried, he didn't go anywhere.  The first time he actually Apparated, he landed on the other side of the meadow from where he intended, having left his right foot where he had started.  Snape didn't seem to be able to decide if he should sneer or smirk as he put Harry back together, but he did explain to Harry what he'd done wrong.  After one other unsuccessful attempt, in which Harry again didn't land where he'd aimed, he successfully Apparated to the other side of the meadow.  Snape was impressed when Harry told him it was where he had intended to go; Snape had told him to move a mere six feet.

 

After several hours of practice, Harry was able to land wherever Snape told him to go.  Snape finally nodded and said, "You have the basics down, which is all you need to know for now.  You can learn the rest on your own, or take the class next year."  He had turned to go when he suddenly looked down at Harry's right hand.  "Where's your ring?"

 

  

  1. I know it went better when I was deliberately using as little power as I could."
  



 

Snape looked at him warily but didn't say anything else.  They walked back to the castle, Harry under his Invisibility Cloak, in silence.

 

According to the calendar Hermione had calculated, the next Quarter Day was that Monday.  During Potions class that morning, Harry looked for Draco but he was missing.  When he asked Blaise at the end of class, the Slytherin nodded.  "Yeah, Draco got permission to go home, on family business, today and tomorrow.  The official reason is to see Orion, his baby brother, but everyone knows it's not true.  Do you know what he's up to?"

 

Harry shook his head.  He had suspicions, but he didn't really know anything.

 

That evening, Harry felt an overwhelming feeling of joy through his link with Voldemort.  It wasn't triumph, not yet, but Voldemort believed he was very close to realizing his goal with Draco.

 

Harry started on his Occlumency on Wednesday morning before he went down to breakfast.  He was glad that he did, because, when Draco walked through the Great Hall to walk past him in the Great Hall, Harry felt his scar starting to burn, but was able to control it enough not to let on. 

 

When he went to the Hospital Wing after breakfast for a headache potion, Madam Pomfrey insisted she give him a full examination.  She explained, after finding nothing wrong with him, that the headache potion she'd been giving him no longer seemed to be working.  She finally gave him a potion designed for people with severe migraines.  It worked, but it made Harry drowsy and unable to pay attention to anything.  It also made him queasy when he smelled food, or anything else with a strong smell.

 

The next night, feeling a little more himself, Harry used the mirror to contact the other universe.  Sirius answered quickly.  "Has anything else happened?" he asked sharply.

 

Harry shook his head.  "Only that whatever Voldemort's doing with Draco is working.  Any time I'm near Draco now, I'm fighting a Voldemort-sized headache.  We're still not sure what he's doing."

 

"Nothing good, sounds like," Sirius agreed.  "I'm glad you contacted me; I wanted to talk to you about those rings."  At Harry's questioning look, the older man continued, "They're serving a definite purpose now, but as soon as Voldemort's destroyed, they have to be disenchanted.  It's possible they may have to be destroyed as well, but I'd start with disenchanting them."

 

Harry found that, as little as he'd liked the idea of the rings in the first place, he was now loath to give them up.  "Why?"

 

Sirius closed his eyes and sighed.  "From what we can tell, if you continue to have access to all that power after the bastard's destroyed, you'll probably start craving power and, eventually, become as bad as he is.  It's too much power."  Sirius sighed again.  "They're a good idea, but I wish your Hermione had never thought of them.  They represent much too much danger for you.  On a happier note, our premier expert on Potions and lycanthropy thinks he's developed something to make the transformation even easier.  I'll be sending the parchment with the formula through; you can give it to your Snape.  Our Remus will be trying it this month; if yours could as well, we can see how it really works."  Harry agreed to take the papers to Snape at his next training session and went to find Hermione.

 

It took a while.  She and Ron were doing their prefect rounds after curfew that evening, and had stopped for a goodnight snog in an empty classroom on their way back.  Harry found himself feeling wistful as he watched them; they were so happy, and they both deserved that happiness, but he wished he had something like it for himself.  After a moment, he cleared his throat and they jumped apart.

 

"Oi, mate," Ron said, untangling his hand from Hermione's hair.  "You're lucky we don't assign a detention; you're out after curfew."

 

"So are you," Harry said, amused.

 

"But we're prefects and we're out performing our duties," Hermione said primly.  When Harry gave her a sceptical look, she laughed.  "Well, we were until we stopped here," she said.  "Do you need something, or are you just here to tease us?"

 

"While teasing you is always the highlight of my day, I was looking for you to discuss something serious," Harry said.  He sat down at one of the desks.  "I have a question, a request and a warning."  He explained what Sirius had told him about the rings.  "He's sending research about an improvement to the Wolfsbane, but I think there will be a warning about the rings in it.  That's the warning.  The question is how many of them are there and who has them.  The request is," Harry sighed, "if I start acting, well, like a Dark Lord, please, no matter what, destroy them all."

 

"We will," Ron said.  When Harry and Hermione both looked at him in surprise, Ron shrugged.  "It's a danger.  We've known it was a danger right from the start.  I don't think it'll happen too fast for us to see and stop it, though, or I would never have agreed to wear one."  He held up the hand with his ring on it.  "I believe in you, Harry.  I always have.  Whatever you need, if I can give it to you, I will."

 

Harry was touched at Ron's unconditional loyalty.  He couldn't say anything; he was too overwhelmed.  Ron seemed to understand.  He didn't seem to expect Harry to say anything; he just put his arm around Hermione, pulling her close, and gestured out the door.  "Let's get back so Hermione can give you that list."

 

Hermione gave him a warm smile.  "It will be all right, Harry.  Power isn't something you've ever wanted; it's just something you use to protect you and those you love.  That doesn't mean you can't abuse it, but I think we can stop it before things go too far."

 

On Monday evening, while he was studying in the library, Harry felt the beginnings of one of his visions.  He decided he was really going to try to stop the visions once and for all; he left the library for his dorm.  Once there, he lay down on his bed, closed the curtains, and began his shield exercises and his Occlumency exercises.  His scar not only continued to burn, but the pain became stronger and stronger.  Finally, he decided that, if he couldn't stop it, he would take control over it.  He dropped his shields, stopped the Occlumency and pushed out with his mind.

 

Almost immediately, he found himself sitting behind a desk.  Lucius Malfoy was sitting directly in front of him.  He looked worn and tired, but still impeccably dressed and groomed.  He seemed to notice Harry's presence, or at least a change, almost immediately.  "Is something wrong?  Should I ask Draco to . . .?"

 

"You will leave Draco alone," Harry said sharply.  He could almost see Voldemort's plans for the younger Malfoy, but then Voldemort managed to shield them.  He tried to take a good look at the papers on the desk, and saw a list of names.  Harry tried to memorize all of them, but the change in concentration broke the spell.  He found himself back in his own bed, his head feeling as if it were to burst open.  At the same time, he had a feeling of triumph.  It hadn't been much, but he had broken in intentionally, he had seen the list of names, he had almost seen Voldemort's plans for Draco and he was still in sufficiently good enough shape that he could report everything to Dumbledore.  He sat up to do exactly that.

 

When he got out of bed to retrieve his shoes, he ran into his other dorm mates, who had been sitting on their own beds watching over his.  "Get back in bed," snarled Seamus.

 

"What shape are you in?" asked Ron.

 

"I'm fine.  What's your problem?"  Harry wanted to get to Dumbledore while he could still remember the names.  "I have to see the Headmaster."

 

Ron picked up a piece of parchment from his bedside table.  "Write down whatever you're afraid you'll forget; I'll get Dumbledore."  He left the room, grabbing Harry's invisibility cloak as he did so.

 

Harry looked at the time.  It had been less than half an hour.  "What's everybody's problem?"

 

The other three boys exchanged a look.  "Harry," Neville finally said, "you've been unconscious since last night.  We're just worried about you."

 

"Since last night?" Harry asked.  That at least explained why everyone was acting so peculiar.  "Has anything else happened?"

 

"No," Seamus snapped at him, "we all think watching our friend lie in his bed looking like he died is absolutely nothing!"

 

"I'm going to tell the girls," Dean said, leaving the dorm.  "They've been worried, too."

 

Neville and Seamus finally let Harry go to the toilet, but Seamus walked with him to make sure he didn't fall or otherwise hurt himself.  Harry rolled his eyes but went along with it.  Seamus worrying about him was better than Seamus thinking he was an attention-seeking lunatic.

 

When they got to the door to the dorm, Ron was waiting for them.  He grabbed Seamus's arm and led him down to the common room, indicating with his chin that Harry should go back into the dorm.  Waiting for him inside were Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.  "Honestly," the school nurse said, "I spend more time checking you over."  She did so, and then smiled at him.  "Everything's fine, Mr. Potter.  Perhaps you just needed the sleep; you still look a bit tired.  You can ask him whatever you need," she said to Dumbledore as she left.  "Please do make sure he makes an early night of it; we don't want him wearing himself out."  She bustled out the door.

 

Dumbledore sat down on Ron's bed.  "Can you tell me what happened?"

 

Harry proceeded to do so.  He even demonstrated the shields and techniques he had used to try to block the connection, and what he had done when they hadn't worked.  "At least, I got the list of names.  I don't know what they mean, but I thought the Order could work it out."  He handed his list to Dumbledore.

 

Dumbledore glanced at the list, and then folded it and put it into a pocket.  "I've been thinking about this connection you have with Voldemort," he said.  "Would you answer a couple of questions for me?"  After Harry's nod, the Headmaster continued, "You are frequently aware of Voldemort's moods and emotions.  Do you ever sense those of your peers?"

 

Harry thought about it a moment.  "No more than they can sense mine, I don't think," he finally said. 

 

"That tends to argue against your being a true empath and implies that your connection with Voldemort isn't simply an emotional one.  And neither shields nor Occlumency can break the connection?"

 

Harry thought about that one for a moment.  It wasn't quite true; the shields and the Occlumency weakened the connection, and made it more bearable.  In fact, Harry realized, after the first day Draco was back, it worked completely against Draco and whatever was happening there.  He explained that to Dumbledore, who looked thoughtfully at the wall behind Harry.

 

Finally, standing to leave, Dumbledore smiled down at Harry.  "Keep doing the best you can, and let us know when your efforts don't succeed as you wish them to.  We'll investigate these people and look into . . . other things."  With that, Dumbledore strode out of the dorm and out of the tower.  Harry could hear him speaking to the other students as he left.

 

Once things had quieted down, his friends came in to check on him and catch him up with what he'd missed.  His four dorm mates, Hermione, Parvati, Lavender and Ginny piled onto his bed and chattered at him.  After reassuring everyone that he was fine and that he had every intention of being in classes the next day, Harry just sat and listened to his friends talking excitedly.  His head still ached a bit and he rubbed at the scar, trying to ease the ache.

 

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked, looking very worried.

 

"My head still hurts a bit from last night," Harry answered.  "Nothing to worry about."

 

"Let me see if I can do something?" Parvati said.  She scooted behind Harry and began rubbing his temples.  He let his head drop back on her shoulder, closed his eyes, and enjoyed what she was doing.  The others continued talking; telling him about something Malfoy had done that day in Care of Magical Creatures.  He had managed to make Hagrid angry enough that the half-giant had actually taken points!  It was only five, but from Hagrid, it was worse than McGonagall or even Snape taking fifty.

 

After several minutes, Harry realized that the conversation had stopped.  He opened his eyes and looked around.  Everyone but he and Parvati had left.  "What happened to everybody?" he asked.

 

Parvati smiled, looking very pretty.  "You looked so peaceful that they thought they'd let you enjoy the moment," she said.  Harry looked up at her and realized her face was coming closer.  Then, they were kissing.

 

When she pulled away some unknown time later, Harry looked up at her, feeling rather dazed.  Then he shook his head and sat up straight.  "I like you, Parvati," he started.

 

"But?"  Harry couldn't tell if she was angry with him.

 

"As long as Voldemort's around, I don't think it would be fair for me to have a girlfriend," Harry said.  It was hard to say; he liked Parvati and, even if he wasn't in love with her, she was pretty and nice and fun.  Still, he was a target and anyone close to him was one as well. 

 

"Hm," Parvati said.  "Hermione and Ginny both warned me you might say that.  They gave me very strict instructions as to what I was to do if you said something along those lines."

 

Harry decided he was going to kill both Hermione and Ginny as soon as he could.  "And they are?"

 

Parvati reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed him even more thoroughly than before.  Then, she said, "Unless you say you don't like me, I'm right here.  Can you say that?"

 

He should, Harry knew.  Her feelings would be hurt, but she'd get over it; he doubted she was any more in love with him than he was with her.  But her kisses felt wonderful, better than anything else in his life, even Quidditch, did.  "I'm going to worry about you every minute of every day," he told her.  "If anything happens to you, or your family . . ."

 

"Harry, if your parents had thought that way, you'd never have been born."  Parvati gave him one last kiss, "For good night," she said and left the room.

 

Harry knew she was right.  He also knew he wasn't going to stop worrying about it any time soon.  After going over all of her kisses several times in his head, he reached for some parchment and started a letter to Remus.

 

He was almost finished when Ron walked in.  "Glad to see you've finally seen some sense," his friend said with a laugh.  "What are you writing?"

 

"A letter to Remus," Harry answered.  "I think I need an adult's advice."

 

Ron sniggered as he got ready for bed.

 

Two days later, Harry got a letter from Remus telling him that he would visit before the full moon the next week.  Harry was looking forward to this visit a great deal; all of Gryffindor now knew that he was dating Parvati; she walked with him to most of his classes, holding his hand.  He'd started carrying her books along with his but he couldn't decide how he felt.  Waiting in the queue for Potions, Ron laughed at him, "Most blokes dream of your problems, mate."

 

"They dream about having Voldemort after him, about knowing that they have to kill a madman to survive?"

 

Ron looked shame-faced.  "Er, no, I don't think anyone envies you your Riddle problems.  You're just over-thinking the whole Parvati thing."  When Harry looked at him, not understanding, Ron continued, "You're not in love with her.  OK, she's not in love with you, either.  She likes you and wants to know you better.  She knows the risks."

 

Hermione had come over to them and added, "Would you like to know what she told me?"  When Harry nodded eagerly, she said, "Parvati told me, and all of the girls who would listen, that dating you might be risky when it comes to Tom Riddle and Death Eaters and not being able to go to Madam Puddifoot's.  But, she also said you kiss very nicely and you're a perfect gentleman.  Unlike some boys, she doesn't have to worry about your hands."

 

Harry blushed about the "kiss" comment, but then asked, "What about my hands?"  He looked down at them; they looked perfectly normal to him, but was Parvati implying something else?

 

Hermione had opened her mouth to answer Harry, but Ron put his hand over it.  "Love, let me explain this one.  We'll all find it a lot less embarrassing."

 

Hermione blushed prettily and nodded.

 

Ron didn't need to say more than three words that evening before Harry understood what the girls were talking about.  He blushed, as much because Ron thought he was that innocent as because of the subject.  When he said, though, that being a gentleman just seemed right, Ron nodded.  "Yeah.  I wouldn't mind doing more but I'm not just in love with Hermione.  I like her."

 

"And we'd both like to go on liking both girls," Harry agreed.

 

When Harry repeated the conversations to Remus when he visited the next Tuesday, the day before the full moon, Remus laughed.  "You sound like James.  Sirius never did quite get that idea through his head, but after the first girl left him fit for the Hospital Wing, your father did.  Lily would quite approve and so, I think, would James.  For different reasons though," he said with a merry smile.

 

"Remus, do you think I'm being stupid or selfish for dating Parvati?"  It was the question he hadn't dared ask anyone else.

 

Remus shook his head.  "No, I don't.  You need to be careful, you need to make sure she's careful and letting the Order, or at least a member of it know is also sensible.  Not that members of the Order didn't know almost immediately," he said, with a teasing laugh.  "When I mentioned your letter to the Headmaster, and asked to visit, he told me he'd already heard about you and Parvati from half a dozen different sources.  I'm guessing," he continued more soberly, "that you didn't say anything to Severus."

 

Harry shook his head.  "I never know whether he's going to decide that I have a death wish because I'm too careful, or because I'm too reckless.  It makes my head spin sometimes."

 

Remus laughed.  "I suspect it's worse when he believes both at the same time, which is probably what he thinks right now."  Remus shook his head, and then grinned.  "Minerva, on the other hand, approves.  Parvati's been working harder on her schoolwork, which Minerva thinks is all to the good, and she says you actually look like a sixteen-year-old boy, which she was starting to believe wouldn't ever happen."

 

They talked for over an hour.  Remus would be trying the new version of Wolfsbane and had high hopes for it.  "Severus, however, has been sure to remind me that it's very experimental and may be worse than taking nothing."

 

"What if it is?" Harry asked.

 

Remus shrugged.  "Then, I don't take that formulation again and Severus and his colleagues, in both universes, go back to work.  I'll be securely locked up; I won't be able to hurt anyone, so I'm not terribly worried.  I can survive one transformation."

 

"Did the other Sirius say anything about the rings?" Harry asked.  He'd been worrying about that ever since he'd given the parchments to Snape, but no one had said anything to him about it.

 

Remus smiled gently.  "Yes, he did pass on the warning; he also said he'd told the same thing to you.  It's nothing we didn't already know."  Remus looked thoughtful for a moment.  "Would you like to hear why nobody here is especially worried about it?"  Harry nodded and Remus said, "First, they weren't your idea and you were horrified when you realized what they were.  Hermione described that scene to Minerva in great detail, for her own comfort and for ours.  Second, they are temporary and removable.  The person wearing the ring can change their mind and can also decide not to allow the access at any specific time just by removing it.  And, finally, Hermione described the spell with which she created the rings in the first place.  Several of us have examined it and none of us believe you could drain someone against their will."  When Harry sighed in relief, Remus continued, "It's doubtful if you could even pull someone's power at all for a purpose with which they disagree.  Although it would have been better if she'd talked to one of us, Hermione was quite careful when she designed the spell.  None of us want to watch Voldemort's successor be created.  Feel better?"

 

"Some," Harry said.  "They still scare me."

 

"They should," Remus agreed.  "When they stop scaring you is when I'll start worrying."

 

The next night, just after dark, Professor McGonagall hurried into the common room and told Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to follow her.  His stomach clenching in dread, Harry did so.  From the looks on the others' faces, they were as scared as he was.  Their Head of House seemed flustered, not at all her usual, calm self.  She led them straight to Dumbledore's office.

 

When they walked in, Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with a huge smile on his face, his eyes twinkling merrily.  Snape was sitting in a chair in front of his desk, scribbling quickly on a parchment in front of him.  Remus was standing in front of the window, looking at the full moon with a teary smile on his face.  Hermione shrieked.

 

"It's a cure?" Harry asked.  The others looked as stunned as he felt.

 

"No," Snape said shortly without looking up.

 

"Not a permanent one, anyway," Remus said.  "I have to take it for the week before the full moon, every full moon.  It tastes worse, which I didn't believe possible, than the old Wolfsbane.  With enough use, there are some pretty serious side effects.  And it's the most miraculous thing I can imagine, standing here, human, looking at that moon, thanks to Severus's work."  He smiled.  "I wonder what my Boggart would be now."

 

"Not my work," snarled Snape.  "I followed their lead."

 

"I read those notes as well as you, Severus Snape," Professor McGonagall said sharply.  "According to them, your Wolfsbane was almost there; they only had to make a few minor adjustments.  Most of which you made; they kept going up blind alleys."

 

Snape flushed, his sallow face going dark.  "They did much more than that."

 

"It's wonderful, sir," Harry said, hoping Snape would believe him.

 

"You just might become the most famous Potions Master alive," Hermione said softly.  "The man who cured the werewolves."

 

Snape refused to look at any of the others, focusing on the notes he was taking.  "Lupin," he snapped, "you will come with me to the next Potions conference, correct?"

 

"I think having a known werewolf, whom you are known to despise, standing in front of a room full of noted Potions Masters and Mistresses on the night of a full moon not transforming might be the most dramatic way of proving that your potion works," Remus said, smiling.  "I'd be delighted."

 

"It'll be published before that," Snape mumbled.  Then he stiffened, his hand going to his arm and the Dark Mark on it.  "I must go."  He left the office at a run.

 

"He'll be all right, won't he?" Harry asked.

 

"You sound worried," Dumbledore said.  The twinkle had dimmed a bit when Snape left, but he was still smiling.

 

"We need him, for a lot of things," Harry said.  "I'm not sure we could win this war without him."

 

"Hmph," snorted Professor McGonagall.  "It's high time people started realizing that."

 

"I don't know who was more surprised when I stood there, in the moonlight, fully human," Remus said, his voice soft and thoughtful.  "Severus and I both stood there staring at each other for I don't know how long.  Then he actually shouted in triumph."

 

"As well he should," Hermione said staunchly as the others nodded.

 

The four of them stayed for a bit, talking with Remus, whose eyes kept wandering out to the full moon on the grounds.  When Professor McGonagall realized that they were out past curfew, she escorted them back to the common room.  "For now, don't spread this around," she instructed them.  "Wait until it's reported.  We don't want to steal any of the glory for this."

 

"Will he be able to publish it?" Harry asked, suddenly thinking about how Voldemort would view this.

 

McGonagall nodded.  "He'll think that the necessity of taking it every month a sufficient weakness.  It will still be expensive; it's still a difficult potion to brew.  It's not a final answer, but it's an amazing start.  Even if," she suddenly grinned, "Remus complains terribly about the taste."

 

Harry went to bed smiling, but his dreams that night were nightmares, filled with blood and screams.  He couldn't remember what had happened in them in the morning, just that they had been terrible.

 

Part of the answer as to what had happened was in the _Daily Prophet_ the next morning.  _WEREWOLVES KILL THREE AURORS_ was the paper's headline.  A dozen werewolves, the names including some Harry had given Dumbledore earlier that month, had attacked four Muggles' homes.  Aurors had been dispatched to all four in time, but the team at one of them had been overcome.  The werewolves at that house had killed everyone there, Muggles and Aurors alike.  None of the names were ones Harry recognized. 

 

Hermione had glanced at the headline, but had filled her plate before picking up the newspaper to read.  Once she did though, she gasped in horror.

 

"What is it, Hermione?" Lavender asked.

 

"The Muggles, the ones who were killed, they're, they were, our neighbours," Hermione stuttered out.

 

Everyone around her was quiet for a moment, stunned at the news.  "Are your parents all right?"  Ron finally asked.  He put his arm around her and pulled her close, for comfort.

 

"It doesn't say anything about them," she said, her voice trembling.  "I . . . I should talk to Professor McGonagall."

 

"Right."  Ron stood and pulled her up with him.  For once, he didn't even glance at the meal he was leaving behind; all his attention was focused on Hermione.  He guided her up to the Head Table, where he spoke for a moment with Professor McGonagall.  She nodded, stood and led the two students out of the Great Hall.

 

"What should we do?" asked Parvati, her voice wavering.  "Should we go to her?" 

 

Harry thought about it for a moment.  "Class will be starting in just a few minutes and Hermione would be the last person who would want any of us to miss it.  Let's go on to class; if we don't hear anything by the end of class, I'll go looking for them."  The others seemed to think that was a good plan.

 

The first class of the day was Potions.  When the class had been seated and Snape looked around the room, he noticed the two missing students.  "Where," he asked, his voice cold, "are Weasley and Granger?"

 

"Some people Hermione knew were killed last night, Professor," Harry answered.  "Ron took her to talk with Professor McGonagall."

 

Snape glared.  "Pity.  If they're not excused, they'll get zeroes for the day."  He whirled around and put the day's assignment on the blackboard.  Harry, working with Parvati, got right to work on his potion.

 

Fifteen minutes into class, Ron walked in.  He walked straight up to Snape, handed him a note and walked back to an empty desk, where he started setting up to brew the potion on the board.  Snape read the note and snapped, "You will stay after class, Mr. Weasley."

 

Ron nodded.  "Yes, sir."

 

When class was finally over, Harry stopped by Ron on his way out.  "She's OK," Ron whispered out of the corner of his mouth.  "Her parents are fine; they didn't know until this morning.  McGonagall took her to see her parents; she'll be back this evening."

 

"That's Professor McGonagall, Weasley," Snape had walked up to the two of them while Ron was talking.  "Ten points from Gryffindor for your appalling lack of respect for your Head of House and five for your not leaving for class on time, Mr. Potter."

 

Harry flushed and headed out the door when he heard Snape ask Ron, "Are Miss Granger's parents well, Mr. Weasley?"  Harry shook his head as he ran to his next class.

 

Hermione came back that night.  She told everyone that her parents were fine; they'd never known what was happening next door.  She told Ron, later in private, that they suspected her neighbours had been attacked as a warning:  she and her parents were very much targets.

 

When Slytherin played Ravenclaw the next Saturday, everyone except Slytherin rooted hard for the Ravenclaw team.  It was a close match, 210-170, but Slytherin finally pulled the win.  Harry was able to congratulate Blaise and Daphne at the next DA meeting, but it was hard.

 

"Whatever happened to the days," Ron asked when Harry mentioned it, "when Slytherin was evil and we could just enjoy hating them?"

 

"Maybe we've just grown up," Hermione said, her lips as thin as McGonagall's.  "And it's past time for doing so."

 

Harry and Ron exchanged looks.  Hermione might be right, she probably was, but it didn't feel like an accomplishment.

 


	14. The Summer Solstice

On Monday evening, as Harry was studying in the library, his scar started burning.  He was able to block the connection after a bit, but he couldn't tell if Voldemort was happy or enraged.  That was unusual enough to make Harry very nervous.

 

The next morning, Hermione opened her _Daily Prophet_ to read with her breakfast.  She spat her first bite of food out and stared at the headline.

 

"Merlin, Hermione, what's gone wrong?"  Ron asked, while shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

 

In answer, Hermione turned the paper around.  The morning's headline, taking up a third of the front page, said, "_FUDGE OUSTED_!"  Harry could hear the whispering beginning through the Great Hall as Hermione began to read the article out loud.  Although the paper gave a lot of details, the simple fact was that Fudge had been removed as Minister of Magic because he'd been abusing his office.  Although the scandal with Umbridge and her Blood Quill had started things off, it received only one sentence in the entire article.  The reporter spent much more time on favours done for donations to various Ministry charities, and on Fudge's actions in keeping the information from the public that Voldemort had returned.

 

Hermione finished reading the article with, _"While being escorted from the Minister of Magic's office, an unnamed Auror required Cornelius Oswald Fudge to bare both forearms.  When Fudge protested, he was informed that he couldn't have been more help to Tom Riddle than if he'd been in his inner circle of Death Eaters."_

 

"That's a scary thought," Ron said when Hermione had finished reading.  "Fudge as a Death Eater."

 

"It's true, though," said Harry.  "So much of what he's done, especially last year, helped Voldemort more than it did us."

 

Harry overheard many conversations on Fudge throughout the day.  Most of the other students agreed that he needed to be removed from office and there was much speculation on who his successor might be.  That thought left a cold lump in Harry's stomach; the person who replaced Fudge could easily be a Death Eater.

 

The upcoming weekend was a Hogsmeade visit.  Harry gave Parvati a kiss as she went off with Lavender and Padma and went to the common room to study.  He had a difficult time with it.  During their training session the night before, Snape had mentioned that he was to meet with other Death Eaters over the weekend; the ritual Voldemort was performing with Draco would be finished in two weeks and he was making plans for what he would do afterwards.  Harry would have liked to try to eavesdrop, but Snape had specifically told him not to try.  Only those Death Eaters to be present were to know about it and, if Voldemort saw that Harry knew, Snape would be high on his list of likely traitors.  By the time his friends returned from Hogsmeade, Harry was ready for something to distract him.

 

Ron came pounding into the common room first, muttering angrily.

 

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, certain that something had gone wrong, someone had been hurt.

 

Ron stopped short and gave Harry a very guilty look.  "Er, nothing.  Really not my place to say.  Everything's fine."  He ran up the stairs to the dorm, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

 

The rest of the group followed several minutes later.  Parvati's eyes were red-rimmed while Hermione's lips were pressed together and she looked angry.  Harry asked the group, "What's wrong?  Ron went shooting through here; he looked pretty upset."

 

No one in the group would meet Harry's eyes.  Parvati finally walked up and held her hand out to him.  "Let's go for a walk out by the lake, Harry.  We can talk there."

 

They walked to the lake in silence.  Parvati wouldn't hold his hand but she didn't seem angry with him.  When they got there, and found a quiet spot to sit down, Harry finally gave in to his impatience.  "What's going on?"

 

Parvati took a deep breath.  "You're not in love with me, are you?"

 

Harry felt his stomach drop.  "No," he said, feeling guilty.  "I like you and I like being with you but I'm not in love with you.  I don't think, anyway," he added, hoping to stay out of trouble.

 

Parvati turned and looked at him.  Her eyes were swollen and her nose looked a bit red.  "While we were in Hogsmeade today, Lavender went off with Seamus, Hermione went off with Ron and Padma went off with Anthony and Dean and I were left on our own.  We started talking, and, well, there's something there.  I'm so sorry," Parvati rushed to say, "I like you; I don't want to hurt you; I didn't want this to happen; I'm so sorry."

 

Harry felt himself getting very angry.  "Dean's dating Ginny!" he said, nearly shouting.  "He shouldn't be even looking at you!"

 

Parvati looked a bit startled.  "They broke up weeks ago," she said.  "Before this term started.  Didn't you know?"  She bit her lip.  "Are you really angry with me?" she asked in a small voice.

 

Harry realized that he wasn't angry with Parvati at all; he actually felt a little relieved.  "I'm not upset," he said, speaking very carefully because he didn't want her to start crying on him.  "We never even thought we were in love with each other.  We were just..." He couldn't figure out how to say what he was feeling.

 

Parvati could.  "We were practicing?" she asked.

 

"Exactly," Harry agreed, feeling relieved.  "Friends?"

 

Parvati smiled.  "Friends."  She leaned over and kissed his cheek.  "You're a very sweet boy, Harry Potter."

 

They walked back to the castle together, talking about not much of anything.  When they got to the common room, Parvati stopped to talk with Lavender while Harry walked up to his dorm.

 

Ron was there, yelling at Dean, who was yelling back but looked nervous all the same.  When Harry walked in, they both stopped yelling and looked at Harry.

 

"Everything all right?" Dean asked in a shaky voice.

 

"How could everything be all right?" Ron demanded.  "After what you did . . ."

 

"Ron," Harry interrupted.  "Drop it.  It's fine.  I wasn't in love with Parvati; she wasn't in love with me.  We're still friends.  Now, please, I don't want to fight."

 

"Did Parvati come back with you?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on Ron.  When Harry nodded, the other boy said, "Thanks," and left the dorm.

 

Ron came over and sat next to Harry.  "Everything's really okay?" he asked.  "I thought you'd be upset."

 

Harry shrugged.  "I like Parvati, but it never got any more serious than that.  I didn't really want a girlfriend."  When Ron raised his eyebrows sceptically, Harry grinned.  "I didn't say I didn't enjoy snogging her."

 

Ron laughed.  "Yeah, or looking at her either; she's pretty.  So, you're not angry."

 

Harry laughed ruefully.  "Just at Dean for hurting Ginny.  I reckon I'm a little behind the times.  You want to play some chess?"

 

They were at the door when Hermione ran into the room.  "Harry, are you really okay or are you just being, well, you?"

 

"Get this," Ron said, snorting, "he was more upset with Dean for hurting Ginny than with Parvati for breaking up with him."

 

"But Dean and Ginny broke up months ago," Hermione said, sounding puzzled.

 

"I didn't know," Harry said.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Honestly, Harry, you have to pay attention to these things."

 

When the Owl Post arrived the next morning, a familiar owl stopped in front of Ron's place.  He took the letter from the owl and handed it a piece of his bacon.  "Why would Percy be writing to me?" he asked, sounding very puzzled.

 

"Well, go on then, open it," Hermione said, leaning on his arm so she could read the letter as well.

 

As Ron read the letter, his eyebrows rose higher and higher.  When he finished, he handed the letter to Harry, shaking his head.  "I can't decide if he's just being ambitious or if he's really changed his mind," he said, his voice unsettled.

 

Harry took the letter from Ron and read,

 

_Dear Ron,_

_I'm certain you've heard about Cornelius Fudge being removed from his office as Minister of Magic.  Frankly, I have mixed emotions about it.  There has obviously been a good deal of corruption in the Ministry under his leadership; however, I wonder how much he had to do with it and how much was in spite of him.  Although it is the current practice to denigrate everything he has done while in office, I still believe that many of his actions were the correct ones to be taken._

_In addition to the charges of corruption, the investigators also looked into Harry's statement that You-Know-Who returned immediately after the Triwizard Tournament.  It's evident from Fudge's notes that he suspected the truth of Harry's story from the start; he convinced himself that Harry was lying to maintain his position.  All of his other actions last year followed from that.  There are reports by several Aurors substantiating his story; of course, the events of last June in the Department of Mysteries were the final proof._

_Ron, please extend my sincere apologies to Harry.  Not only did I believe the propaganda put forward by Fudge; I tried to convince you to turn on him.  With the information I now have, I can see how wrong I was in both cases.  The events of last June still give me nightmares; in the worst of them, I see Ginny being attacked and killed by the basilisk from which Harry saved her in her first year.  I should have remembered what Harry did for our family when he rescued Ginny, rather than listening to Fudge.  He has no reason to forgive me, but I hope he won't hold it against the rest of our family._

_One last piece of news, which I'll ask you not to spread any farther:  somehow, Lucius Malfoy has managed to convince a significant proportion of the Wizengamot that he was not involved in the events of last June, but was an unfortunate victim of circumstance.  There is some talk that he may be appointed the next Minister of Magic!  I don't believe that will actually happen, but it is likely that someone with his politics will be chosen.  Something for you lot to keep in mind: discretion is likely to continue to be important._

_Give my love to Ginny and say hello to anyone there that's interested._

_Love,_

Percy__

 

Harry felt numb from everything in the letter.  The thought of Lucius Malfoy becoming Minster of Magic was chilling.  Harry wished that there was something he could do to stop it, but anything he could think of would cause more trouble than it would solve.

 

"Ron," Harry said as he handed the letter back to Ron, "when you write back to him, tell him I accept his apology and I never held his actions against the rest of your family.  Forgiveness . . ." Harry trailed off.

 

"Don't worry about it," Ron said, folding the letter back into its envelope, "you'll forgive him when you're ready and it won't hurt him one bit for that to take some time.  If it were me, I wouldn't be accepting his apology any time soon."

 

Harry shrugged.  "He made a mistake.  I don't want your parents feeling bad because I'm still angry with him.  I'll probably never be close to him but, if he can admit he made a mistake, I can accept his apology.  Besides, how else would we have found out who most likely will be our next Minister of Magic?"

 

"That's a terrifying thought," Hermione said as the two boys agreed.

 

Ginny's response, when she read the letter that afternoon, was to sniff.  "Still the same old Percy," she said with a snarl.  "He's just decided that backing you will be better for him in the long run."

 

"Maybe," said Ron, "but I think it's also that he's trying to do what's right.  Maybe it's seeing Malfoy poised to become Minister of Magic.  Whatever he thinks of Fudge and his lot, I reckon he still hates the Malfoys."

 

Harry thought there might be some truth in that, but he also wondered if Percy just wanted to rejoin his family.  If it was the latter, he was determined to help it happen.

 

The final game of the Quidditch season was Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff.  Unfortunately for Hufflepuff, the Gryffindor team was better to start with and was playing at the top of their game.  The match lasted less than an hour, with a final score of 270-60.  The party was a much-needed release.  Even Professor McGonagall, when she came down to send everyone to bed after midnight, couldn't stop smiling at the thought of the Quidditch Cup spending another year in her office.

 

The next couple of weeks were hard on everyone.  Exams were coming up and people were spending most of their time studying and sitting exams.  Harry was grateful that his exams this year weren't nearly as important as they had been last year or they would be the next year.  As usual, Hermione had drawn up study schedules for Ron and him; this year, they were following them, most of the time. 

 

Even his training sessions with Snape were affected; at the end of one session, Harry realized that the counters he was using were mostly the spells he needed to know for his different exams.  When he pointed this out to Snape, the Potions Master smirked.  "If it weren't you, Potter, I'd give you ten points for paying attention and using your brain.  As it is you, I just won't take any more."

 

Harry rolled his eyes and threw a hex.  As was happening more often, Snape wasn't able to block it.

 

The week of exams was hard, but Harry wasn't feeling nearly as stressed as he had been the year before.  He felt more confident with what he knew and much better prepared.  Still, he cancelled all meetings of the DA that week and Snape cancelled the Tuesday night training session.

 

By the time they finished their last exams on Friday afternoon, they were all looking forward to the weekend.  Harry met Snape at the training room for their regular session.  Snape was already there, looking uneasy.

 

"What's wrong, Professor?" Harry asked.

 

"There are two things we need to discuss, Potter," Snape said, conjuring up two classroom chairs.  "First, you know tonight is a full moon?"

 

Harry nodded.  "I sent Remus a letter yesterday and I'm hoping to hear back from him by Sunday."

 

"He may not be up to replying to you that quickly."  At Harry's panicked look, Snape scowled.  "The version of the Wolfsbane he took last month, although it provided the effect desired, has some rather negative side effects.  We have discovered that, at least in some cases, these effects are cumulative.  It's nothing permanent," Snape said quickly at Harry's alarm, "but he will be enduring this month's transformation without the Wolfsbane's assistance."

 

"What side effects?" Harry asked, feeling his stomach sink.

 

"Severe nausea.  He vomited up what appeared to have been everything he ate the entire month."  Snape looked revolted.  "I'm not entirely certain what caused the reaction, but there's an entire month to determine what it was, so I hope we're successful.  He did ask me to let you know that he is likely to have a difficult time of it this month so you won't worry unnecessarily."

 

"Will there be someone to take care of him?" Harry asked.  When Snape nodded, Harry sighed.  "OK, that's one thing, what's the second?"

 

Snape took a deep breath as if to brace himself.  "Tomorrow is the Solstice.  Draco will be going home tomorrow morning and there is a meeting tomorrow evening.  Whatever the ritual is, it will be completed tomorrow night."

 

"Is there any way we can disrupt it?" Harry asked.  He knew that, whatever the ritual was, it was going to be trouble. 

 

"No.  The important thing to remember, Potter, is that you are to stay out of it; do you understand?  You are not to try to spy through your connection, you are not to try to follow Draco, you are to stay in Gryffindor Tower and stay strictly out of trouble.  If you do not, if we get a hint that you're not staying put, you will be locked up.  Have I made myself clear?"

 

Harry scowled.  "Yes, sir.  I wasn't planning . . ." He didn't finish the sentence because Snape had thrown a curse at him that he was just able to block.  The session that night was the most brutal it had ever been.  Harry wasn't certain whether it was to make certain he didn't want to move tomorrow or whether Snape wanted to distract himself.  It didn't matter, when he finally walked back to the common room, all he wanted was to sit in the bath, soaking his muscles, until he fell asleep.

 

The _Daily Prophet_ the next morning noted that, although the night before had been a full moon, there had been no attacks.  There was much speculation, guesses ranging from no werewolves being willing to work with Voldemort to his approving of Fudge's removal as Minister of Magic.  No one printed the theory Harry thought most likely:  that the ritual Voldemort was planning on performing tonight was too important to risk anything going wrong so close to it.

 

"Is there anything you're supposed to do today?" Hermione asked as they returned to the common room after breakfast.  When Harry shook his head, she continued, "Nothing?  Not even staying in the Tower?"

 

Before Harry could try to come up with an answer, Ron said, "Give it up, mate.  After the prefect meeting last night, McGonagall kept us back and told us to keep an eye on you all day.  Snape was supposed to have told you, but . . ."

 

While Ron looked away guiltily, Hermione's chin lifted.  "Unfortunately, Harry, no one thinks you're entirely, er, trustworthy in something like this.  Professor McGonagall thought it best that we know, as well, that you're supposed to stay here."

 

Harry couldn't even be upset with the two of them.  They were right and he knew it.  So he let Ron distract him with several matches of chess, all of which he lost.  Later, Hermione and Ginny joined them for Exploding Snap.  Outside, it was raining, a real downpour, so it was no hardship to stay in the warm, comfortable common room and talk and laugh with his friends.

 

Harry had just dropped off to sleep that night when his scar burning woke him up.  He tried Occlumency, then he tried the empathic shields he'd learned, but nothing worked.  At first, it was just pain, but then, he was able to see through Voldemort's eyes.  When Harry realized what he was seeing, he felt cold all over.

 

Draco was lying on a large stone table, one with a ridge carved into it all the way around about an inch from its edge.  He was tied spread-eagled, and it was clear he was terrified and trying to get away.  Snape was sprawled half on, half off the table.  As Harry watched, Snape slowly stood up, shaking his head as if to clear it.  His mask was lying on the floor.

 

"So, you are a traitor," Voldemort said coldly.  "I have wondered.  For your betrayal, _Crucio!_"  After a moment of watching Snape scream and writhe, Riddle lifted the curse.  "And the Potter brat will watch it all; I can feel him in my mind and he hasn't been able to block this.  He will watch you die."

 

"I doubt he cares," Snape said, his voice rough as he stood again.  "He doesn't realise that, if this ritual succeeds, he will not be able to kill you."

 

Harry started struggling to pull himself out of the vision, but Voldemort was actively fighting him.  If Snape was right, and Harry believed that he was, Voldemort had to be stopped now!

 

Harry tried to break the connection; at least enough to tell Ron what was happening.  Voldemort had too tight of a hold on him; Harry couldn't break free of it.  After several unsuccessful attempts, he decided to try to gain control of the connection.

 

Harry began what amounted to a tug-of-war between Voldemort and himself, each of them trying to gain the upper hand.  Harry was able to prevent Voldemort from continuing to torture Snape but he couldn't make him do anything else.  He opened the connection more and more to try to gain more control but couldn't do so.  Finally, he caught a stray thought of Voldemort's:  that at least Harry wasn't present in body.  If Voldemort were able to keep the contest mental, he believed he could defeat Harry, or at least fight him to a standstill.

 

Hoping he wasn't falling into another trap, Harry felt under his pillow for his wand.  Not believing it would work, he still tried to Apparate to where Voldemort was, pulling power through his ring.  Although it didn't work the first time, he could feel the wards bend.  Pulling as much power as he dared, not wanting to leave anyone hurt if he could avoid it, he tried again-and found himself before Voldemort, standing next to Snape and the stone table.

 

Voldemort raised his wand to curse Snape again.  Harry would have tried to disarm him but knew that their wands wouldn't work against each other.  As Voldemort cast _Crucio_, Harry felt the bond between the two of them; similar to the ones he could feel through his ring.  Thinking that, if he could interfere with the bond with Voldemort, Snape would be able to help him, Harry stepped over to Snape, and grabbed his arm over the Dark Mark.  Once he was in physical contact with Snape, he could feel the connection.  He tried to break it, doing what he could only describe as pulling it out of Snape's arm, out of his soul.  Harry could hear Snape screaming as the bond was severed but he kept pulling.  Voldemort had figured out what he was doing and tried to stop Harry by throwing the Cruciatus Curse at him but Harry refused to let the pain stop him.  He could feel himself screaming as the curse hit him, but he was able to shield Snape from the curse while he worked.  He didn't know how long it took to break the connection but he finally felt it give.  As he stood up, shaking from the effort and the pain, he could see Snape's Mark flaking off his arm and could feel that it was no longer a part of his soul.

 

For a moment, the three of them froze in utter disbelief.  Then, with a roar, Voldemort raised his wand to curse Harry.  Harry quickly raised his wand; ready to cast anything knowing it would trigger _Priori Incantatem_.  Voldemort stopped, clearly not eager to trigger the spell.  Harry could feel Voldemort preparing to summon his other followers, but that also gave him a path to see the other connections.  There were dozens, maybe hundreds.  Harry was terrified at what he had to do but he took a deep breath and began.

 

As he had with Snape's Mark, Harry started by yanking out the connections.  In the background, he could hear Snape casting some type of spell.  A minute later, while he was still fighting Voldemort mentally, neither of them able to get the upper hand, Malfoy started complaining.

 

"I don't care what any of you want!" the other boy screamed.  "I want out of here!  Now!"

 

Harry could hear Snape's voice answering him, but the words were quietly spoken and Harry couldn't tell what Snape was saying.

 

Harry and Voldemort continued their silent, eerie duel when Voldemort, finally, started pushing Harry away from the connections.  It took Harry a minute to realize that Voldemort wasn't trying to summon his followers any more; he was just pulling as much power as he could through the Marks.  Harry realized that he had his own source of power and began to draw it through his ring.

 

He quickly discovered that pulling power through his ring this time was very different than ever before.  He could tell that many of those wearing the rings were actively pushing power through them, allowing him to gather more than he would have been able to on his own.  As his scar burned more and more fiercely, Harry was catching glimpses of those sending him their power.  He could see Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting together, white-faced and frightened.  He could see Snape, not with eyes that were now closed in pain, but with his mind.  Snape looked furious; he was holding his wand on Draco, while he held the hand wearing the ring in a fierce fist.  The images, at first slow, began to flash by Harry's mind faster and faster; he quickly lost the ability to see individuals.  He could only see the bright fire of the power being channelled to him.

 

While Harry felt more and more power through his ring, he could see Voldemort struggling to pull his followers' power through the Dark Marks.  Harry was continuing to break the connections he could find.  Voldemort was holding onto those connections he still had with all the power he had left.  Harry could now tell that Voldemort was also pulling power from some other place.  It didn't feel like what he was getting from his Death Eaters, which felt sickening to Harry and, somehow, final.  This felt like the power Harry was being given through his ring; it was bright and warm and reminded Harry of phoenix song.

 

With a sinking feeling that he was fatally trapped, Harry traced back the link to this power alien to Voldemort.  As he had feared, Voldemort was now pulling power from Harry through his scar.  His scar, which had defined who he was since his parents had died, was the same type of connection as the rings and as the Dark Marks.

 

Feeling as if he had known all along that he would have to do this, Harry reached inside himself for the connection between him and Voldemort.  Once he looked for it, Harry found it quickly.  As he had thought, the connection was through his scar.  It pulsed with the same type of power as that Voldemort was getting from his Death Eaters.  Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, feeling as if this was the last fight he would have with the snake-faced bastard, Harry ripped the connection out of his soul.

 

It hurt, worse than any pain Harry had ever felt before.  His head felt as if it were to split open; he could no longer see, no longer hear, no longer feel anything but the pain from his scar.  Harry had no idea how long the pain was his entire existence but it finally ended.

 

When the pain began to ease, Harry couldn't feel the connections Voldemort had with his Death Eaters.  As he started to panic, wondering how he was supposed to defeat the other wizard, Harry realized that he could no longer feel Voldemort at all.  It was at that moment that he realized that he had always been able to feel the other wizard, always, even when he hadn't been consciously aware of it.  Now, that feeling was gone.  Harry felt . . . lighter.

 

Harry opened his eyes to see what Voldemort was doing.  Black spots were taking over his vision and all he could hear was a loud buzzing.  He managed to see Voldemort lying on the ground nearby before the blackness took over.

 


	15. Time to Start Living

Harry woke up slowly.  His head didn't hurt any more, but he felt strangely empty.  He opened his eyes and found himself in the Hospital Wing.  Wondering how he'd returned to Hogwarts, he struggled to sit up.  He felt himself pushed back down and heard Snape say, "Wait until Madam Pomfrey checks you over, Potter."

 

"Can I have my glasses, then?" Harry asked, not really wanting to argue.  He found he was feeling rather shaky.

 

"Your manners are atrocious," Snape complained as he handed Harry his glasses.  "That is something we'll have to work on."

 

Harry put his glasses on and looked at Snape.  He looked surprisingly good, Harry decided, at least for Snape.  His hair was still greasy and his skin still sallow, but he looked younger than Harry could remember seeing him.  "Er, Professor, are you all right?  After what happened . . ."

 

"Hm, let's see," Snape said, smirking as he leaned back in the chair.  "You have removed a permanent Mark that displayed one of the worst decisions of my life.  You have destroyed a madman who would have taken over the entire Wizarding world and, quite likely, destroy it in the process.  You eliminated all of the Dark Lord's followers so that cleaning up is primarily a matter of burying the bodies.  And, because you decided to confront the Dark Lord in my presence, I have been informed that I will be receiving an Order of Merlin First Class for my work and heroism.  No, Mr. Potter, I'm doing terribly badly."  He sneered, stood up and left Harry's bed, calling for Madam Pomfrey.

 

Madam Pomfrey bustled up to Harry's bed almost immediately and began running her wand over him.  Shaking her head and muttering about children who would get themselves injured no matter how everyone tried to keep them safe, she proceeded to give Harry about a dozen potions.  He swallowed the last one and, before he could ask her any more questions, fell asleep.

 

Every time Harry woke throughout the night, there was somebody different sitting with him.  He was never able to stay awake long enough to talk to them.  As soon as his eyes opened, the person sitting beside him would insist that he take another potion before they could talk and the potion would send him straight back to sleep.

 

Madam Pomfrey checked him over after Harry woke up the next morning.  When he asked when he'd be allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, she sniffed and said, "It's a wonder you survived channelling all that magic through yourself.  You'll stay here until I'm sure you won't relapse.  Now, the Headmaster would like to speak with you."

 

A few minutes later, Dumbledore walked into the Hospital Wing, transfigured the chair next to Harry's bed into a chintz-covered armchair and set the tray of food he was carrying on the bedside table.  "I thought I could talk with you while you have your breakfast," he said smiling.

 

"Okay," Harry agreed, digging into the food.  "What day is it?"

 

"Madam Pomfrey hasn't told you?  Well, then, it's Tuesday morning.  You gave us all quite a fright.  Why don't you ask me your questions and then I'll ask mine?"  Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled merrily over his half-moon glasses.

 

Harry thought for a moment.  "Snape-,"

 

"Professor Snape, Harry."

 

"Sorry.  Professor Snape said that I destroyed Voldemort.  Did I hear that right or was I dreaming?"

 

Dumbledore nodded.  "You did indeed destroy Voldemort.  We're still trying to determine exactly what it was that you did, but he is most definitely dead.  His body is currently under observation in the Department of Mysteries; they wish to be entirely certain he is dead for good.  Once you are recovered, they wish to speak with you."  Dumbledore's smile got a little broader as he leaned over and said, "That conversation is likely to take a while; in addition to the fact that you have destroyed the most powerful Dark wizard in over a century, you have also broken both his Death Eaters' Dark Marks and your own connection.  That's unprecedented.  Might I ask, do you know what you did?"

 

Harry thought how to explain it.  "The only way I can explain it is that I pulled the connections to his Death Eaters out and then the one to me.  I did Professor Snape's first; that's how I knew I could do it."

 

Dumbledore's eyebrows drew together.  "Did you do anything different when you broke Severus's connection than when you broke the other Death Eaters?  And your own?"

 

Harry nodded.  "Professor Snape's I broke at his end, I guess you'd say.  As soon as I had, the Dark Mark started just flaking off his arm.  The other Death Eaters' connections I broke at Voldemort's end.  I'm not entirely sure whether or not I broke them completely or just disrupted them.  Mine, I broke at my end.  That's when I collapsed."

 

Dumbledore nodded.  "From what we can tell, you didn't completely break Voldemort's connections with his Death Eaters; however, you did disrupt them.  Severus said he had told you that all Marked Death Eaters, other than himself, were also killed.  Do you remember that?"

 

Harry swallowed.  How many people had he killed?  "To be honest, Professor, I was hoping I'd dreamed that bit.  I really killed all those people?"  His voice sounded very small to him, as small as he felt.

 

Dumbledore wasn't smiling as he patted Harry on the arm.  "I don't believe it was you who killed the other Death Eaters, Harry.  We're still trying to figure out exactly what happened, but it appears that Voldemort himself killed them, by draining their magic, their energies and, finally, their lives.  I wish I could tell you otherwise."

 

Harry swallowed.  Then, something Dumbledore said caught his attention.  "He drained them.  Was anyone hurt by my pulling power through the rings?  I took a lot of power."

 

"Yes, you did," Dumbledore said gently.  "However, no one who donated that power has any argument with what you took and why.  Several people collapsed, but even the most strongly affected had regained consciousness before we'd brought you back to Hogwarts.  Within an hour or so.  Everyone has been back to normal for several days.  There are two exceptions to that."  At Harry's frightened look, the Headmaster smiled gently.  "Nothing bad, Harry; you needn't worry.  First, everyone who was wearing one of your rings during your fight now bears a mark on the finger their ring was on." 

 

He held up his right hand.  Harry could see a design on his finger, right where a ring would sit.  Harry gulped.  "You had one of the rings?  I didn't know."

 

"Yes, well, I obtained mine rather indirectly, through Remus.  I knew the implications of the rings worried you, quite sensibly I might add, and I thought you'd be under less pressure this way."

 

Harry's glare didn't dim the Headmaster's twinkle at all.  Then, he looked sourly at the mark on Dumbledore's finger.  "Is that like . . .?"  Harry really didn't want to ask the question.

 

"The Dark Mark?" Dumbledore finished for him.  "Fortunately, not at all.  Both parties must be wearing their rings for the connection to exist.  We were able to test that much while you were unconscious."

 

"And the other exception?"

 

"Ah, yes.  There are two rings that appear to have become permanently attached.  "Yours," Dumbledore indicated Harry's ring, "and Severus's.  We believe his became permanent to prevent Voldemort from reinstating the Dark Mark.  We're not at all certain of that; it's one of several things the Department of Mysteries wishes to look into."

 

Harry looked down at his own ring.  It looked like a normal ring that had become a part of his finger.  "All that power," he said quietly.  "It feels . . . really good.  I don't want the others to be wearing their rings; that power scares me."

 

Dumbledore's expression had sobered.  "As well it should, Harry; as well it should.  The Unspeakables wish to do more research on the rings and the connections they forged with you but, when they are done, we plan to disenchant all of the rings.  We hope to include yours and Severus's when we do so.  Now," he briskly brought his hands together, "do you have any other questions?"

 

"One, for now.  Professor Snape said he was getting an Order of Merlin; is that true?"

 

"Oh, yes, Harry," Dumbledore said, with a broad smile.  "You and Severus are both getting Orders of Merlin, First Class.  There is some discussion on whether everyone who was wearing a ring will get an Order of Merlin, Second Class, but that's still being discussed.  We are indebted to you for what you have done and the Wizarding world wishes to demonstrate their gratitude.  Any other questions?"

 

"What was the ritual Voldemort was going to perform with Draco?"

 

"He was going to drain Draco's youth and life force."  When Harry gasped, horrified, Dumbledore nodded, "Oh, yes, a terrible spell and Mr. Malfoy was quite unaware of what was to happen to him.  The spell would have made Voldemort more difficult, if not impossible, to defeat.  That is why Severus risked himself to prevent the ritual from being completed."

 

"I'll bet Draco was thrilled to hear his parents were willing to let him be killed," Harry said.  "Is that why Voldemort told them to have another baby?"

 

Dumbledore shook his head.  "No, he actually told them what he was going to do.  He offered them great influence in return for Draco; little Orion was their own idea.  And now, both boys are orphaned."

 

It took Harry a minute to understand.  "Both Lucius and Narcissa were Marked?"

 

"Yes.  Draco is now responsible for his little brother.  A responsibility he seems to be taking quite seriously; I have high hopes that this entire matter, however tragic, may ultimately be good for him."  Dumbledore smiled at Harry again.  "I would also like to discuss the events with you in greater detail myself.  Professor Snape has been able to tell me most of what happened, but I still have some questions."  He stood up.  "But that can wait until you've had some time to digest what you've heard today.  Rest well, Harry; you've earned it."  Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing, his step livelier than it had been in quite some time.

 

Later, when classes had ended for the day, Ron, Hermione and Ginny came into the Hospital Wing to visit.  "How much have you heard?" Hermione asked.

 

"Professor Dumbledore brought me up to date on the basics.  Why don't you lot tell me what you want to know?"

 

Harry sat back and listened to the three of them chattering happily about the events of the last four days.  Hermione had saved her _Daily Prophets_ and showed them to him.  Sunday's headline took up the entire front page:  _YOU-KNOW-WHO DEAD_.

"Saturday night was scary, mate," Ron said with a shiver.  "I was half asleep when you started screaming.  You couldn't seem to hear anything I said and, then, you pulled your wand from under your pillow and vanished.  Neville went for the Headmaster and we tracked you."

 

"_Hogwarts: A History_ will have to print a revision," Hermione added.  "Apparently, a very powerful, very desperate wizard can punch a hole in Hogwarts' Anti-Apparation wards.  Professor Dumbledore couldn't decide whether he should be impressed or horrified."

 

"When they finally brought you back," Ginny said, "and started piecing things together, Snape wanted to take hundreds of points for your 'wanton destruction of school magical protections.'"  She giggled.  "I don't think his heart was in it, though."

 

"Yeah," agreed Ron.  "He hasn't taken points from anyone, since.  It's been great."

 

"Oh," Hermione suddenly said.  "We finally talked to Professor Gillespie about the way he treats Muggle-borns.  Do you know, he didn't even realize he was doing it?"

 

"Turns out he's scared of them," Ron said, shaking his head.  "He started in on loads of statistics, all about how Muggle-borns and half-bloods are generally more powerful than purebloods and Squibs are always pureblood.  A cousin of his is a Squib, so he did a lot of research on the subject."  Ron grinned.  "He told me I was very sensible to consider marrying a Muggle-born girl; our children are much more likely to be healthy and powerful."

 

"Which isn't necessarily true," Hermione said precisely, "but is the way the statistics work.  He's going to loan me some books on the subject; it sounds fascinating."

 

"Is he staying?" Harry asked.  With the exception of the way he treated the Muggle-born students, he'd always rather liked Gillespie.

 

Ginny shook her head.  "No.  He's been given a post at some school in the United States.  California, I think he said."

 

"But he says he'll be hours away from Hollywood, so he probably won't see anybody famous," Ron added.

 

"What's up with Draco?" Harry asked.  He couldn't quite get his mind around the idea of Draco raising a baby.

 

"Oh, Orion is so cute!" was Ginny's comment.  "He hasn't had time to find an appropriate nanny, so he's been bringing the baby everywhere with him."

 

"He really hates having all the girls around him cooing," Ron said, looking disgruntled.  "Snape won't let him in Potions for the rest of the year; he says it's too dangerous.  The rest of the teachers are allowing it, though."

 

"They don't cover much after exams," Hermione said.  Like Ginny, she had a fond smile on her face.  "And Orion is awfully cute.  Draco always looks tired, these days.  Apparently his little brother sleeps most of the day and wants to play all night."

 

"Not much he can do yet," said Ron.  "Except for eating, filling nappies and making a racket."

 

While his friends were in classes the next day, he had a visitor from the Ministry.  "Good morning, Harry," Percy Weasley said, holding out his hand.

 

Harry shook it and looked at him closely.  He looked thinner than Harry remembered, and more tired.  "Madam Pomfrey said you're here from the Ministry?"

 

"Yes, I'm here on behalf of the Ministry."  Percy picked up a quill and a roll of parchment.  "We understand you're still recovering, so you're to let me know immediately if you're getting tired, but we would like to find out exactly what happened last Saturday night."

 

Harry thought about it.  "There may be some questions I want to discuss with Professor Dumbledore or another member of the Order, before I answer them."

 

Percy nodded, looking eager.  "Of course, Harry.  Would you prefer I ask the Headmaster to come in now?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "No, I'm sure he's busy," he answered.

 

Percy smiled in a rather superior way.  "I think he could make time to discuss Voldemort's defeat, but that's your decision.  By the way," and here Percy looked down, "thank you for accepting my apology.  What I wrote to Ron last year was completely out of line and I'm grateful to you for trying to smooth things out with my family."

 

"I know how important family is," Harry said quietly.

 

Percy nodded.  "I should have remembered."  He was quiet a moment, and then asked, "Were there really bars on your window?"

 

Harry nodded and Percy shook his head.  It turned out that he had an entire list of questions for Harry.  Harry answered them as best he could, but did tell Percy he wanted to talk to Dumbledore before he gave the list of people who had had the rings.  "I'm not even sure who had them," Harry told him.  Percy looked startled.  "For instance, I didn't find out until later that Dumbledore had one."

 

"Professor Dumbledore," Percy corrected primly.  "He doesn't surprise me in the least.  Would you prefer I just ask him?"  After Harry nodded, Percy made a note to himself.  "How many members of my family have them?" he asked.

 

Harry thought about it.  "I'm sure of Ron and Ginny and I think Fred and George have them, too.  I don't know about the rest of them."

 

Percy nodded and continued asking his questions.  "Did you know who all the Death Eaters were?"

 

Harry shook his head.  "No, I was just breaking the connections," he said.  "I had no idea who they were.  Why?"

 

Percy looked unsettled.  "Some of the people we found, the ones with Dark Marks . . ." He broke off and took a deep breath.  "It turns out there were a number of Death Eaters within the Ministry, especially within the Aurors.  Some of them were people I knew and admired," he admitted.  "It's hard knowing they were fooling us all."

 

"Was Fudge . . .?" Harry started.

 

Percy shook his head.  "No, Fudge wasn't a Death Eater.  But most of his chief advisors, especially the unofficial ones, were.  The Ministry is in an uproar; we have no idea who will be taking over.  For the moment, Madam Bones is running things.  She seems to know what she's doing and isn't letting public opinion sway her."

 

Percy finally finished his questions and stood up, extending his hand for Harry to shake.  "Thank you for your time, Harry.  I know that Gideon Croaker, with the Department of Mysteries, wishes to speak with you but he plans to give you a few weeks to recover.  If we need any further information, we'll owl you."  As he was leaving the Hospital Wing, he turned to face Harry again.  "Thank you.  I know the Ministry hasn't been at all fair to you, but you've been more than fair to us."  He turned and left, his ears going pink.

 

Harry had lots of visitors to keep him company while he stayed in the Hospital Wing.  Even after he had recovered enough to be walking around and staying out of bed most of the time, Madam Pomfrey insisted he stay there.  "There's too much chaos right now," she told him.  "You're better off where you can lie down and nap whenever you need to."

 

"They're also keeping the press away from you," Ron told him Friday afternoon.  "As long as you're here, they can say you're still recovering and aren't up to meeting the press.  They're talking to everyone else, though."

 

Harry knew that.  He'd read interviews with most of his classmates and teachers.  There was very little new in the stories, but Harry found it entertaining to see what different people emphasized.  He also noticed that the rings weren't mentioned at all.

 

When Madam Pomfrey finally released him, after the party in the Gryffindor common room, Harry pulled both mirrors out of his trunk.  He looked at the broken one for several long moments before putting it back saying, "I hope you're proud of me, Sirius.  I still miss you so much."

 

Then, he pulled the other mirror out and called for the other Sirius.  When his image appeared, he grinned happily at Harry.  "There you are.  You have no idea how happy I am to see you in one piece!"  He explained that Ron had told him on Sunday what had happened the night before.  Harry told him what he knew about what had happened.  When he finally said good-bye, Sirius told him, "You now have a duty to act like a kid and drive all the adults in your life mad.  It's  a moral imperative!"

 

The train ride home was merry.  With Voldemort and his Death Eaters gone, one of the biggest worries everyone had had for the last months and years was over.  The compartment Harry was sharing with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny was visited by almost everyone on the train at one time or another. 

 

Even Malfoy came by, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle.  Malfoy walked up to Harry and held out his hand.  "I understand you make your own friends," he said, smirking, "but I thought you might be willing to make new ones."  Then, the smirk fading, he said, "I can't believe I owe Harry Bloody Potter a life debt."

 

Harry shrugged but then thought about it.  "Raise Orion to know that you judge people on their actions, not who their parents are or how they were raised.  Then we'll call it even."

 

"And people say you're a soft touch," Draco said, sneering.  He turned and left, Crabbe and Goyle on his heels.

 

"I can't believe that git had the nerve to remind you of our first day," Ron fumed.  "Why were you so nice?"

 

Harry looked at Ron and smiled calmly.  "Everyone deserves a second chance, Ron."

 

Ron turned away, pulling out a deck of Exploding Snap cards.  "Dumbledore," he muttered, just loud enough for Harry to hear him.  "He's turning into bloody Dumbledore!"

 

As always, the train arrived at King's Cross station where the parents were waiting to take their children home.  The Dursleys were standing a little apart from the crowd, looking appalled.  Remus was also there, as was Snape. 

 

After greeting their own children, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came up to Harry.  "We're so very proud of you, dear," Mrs. Weasley told him.  "Now, Professor Dumbledore still wants you to stay with the Dursleys for a bit but we'll have you over to visit as soon as possible."

 

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, enjoying the hug she gave him.  "I'll look forward to it."  He walked over to Remus.  "Hi, Remus.  Am I going to see you this summer?"

 

"Quite a bit, I think," Remus answered, smiling.  He looked tired and a bit ill, but happy to see Harry.  "I'll be the one bringing Gideon Croaker by to talk with you, among others.  We'll be looking into what happened for a very long time, I think."

 

Harry looked over at Snape.  He was dressed in Muggle clothes, black trousers and a dark grey jumper, that made him look even more dangerous than he looked in his Death Eater robes.  He nodded at Harry and then turned to the Dursleys.  "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Our Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore, has asked me to give you some information for this summer."

 

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both looked horrified at Professor Snape.  Having seen him looking truly menacing, Harry thought they were lucky that he was only sneering a little.

 

"First, Mr. Potter has been through something of an ordeal and will need to rest quite a bit."  Snape pulled several sheets of parchment from a pocket.  "Here are Madam Pomfrey's instructions as to his care.  Mostly, he needs to rest."

 

Harry had gone from staring at Snape to exchanging incredulous looks with his friends.  Hermione had greeted her parents and brought them over to witness Snape intimidating the Dursleys.

 

"Second, you remember the wizard who murdered your sister and brother-in-law?"  When Aunt Petunia nodded, Snape gave Harry an unreadable look.  "Harry destroyed him a little under two weeks ago; you will no longer need to worry that the Dark Lord will attack your family.  Of course, you may wish to keep in mind that Potter is strong enough to defeat the most powerful Dark wizard in over a century."  Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were exchanging horrified looks while Harry's mood was lightening by the minute.

 

"Yes, but he can't do m-m-magic away from that school of his," Uncle Vernon said, his voice wavering.

 

Snape pulled another sheet of parchment from his pocket.  "Mr. Potter has been granted an exemption from the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the last month before he turns seventeen, when he is considered an adult.  He will be permitted to do magic and is unlikely to be punished for even the most egregious uses of it.  Something you should keep in mind."

 

Snape turned to Harry.  "Have a good summer, Mr. Potter, and make certain you finish your summer homework.  Pay particular attention to your Potions homework; you are still a little behind the class in that subject."  He turned once more to the Dursleys.  "Good day."  He whirled around and left the platform.

 

"Well, Severus certainly covered the essentials," Remus said, smiling cheerfully.  "Wouldn't you say, Arthur?"

 

Mr. Weasley nodded, smiling.  "He seems to have hit the high points.  We'll be getting in touch with you later, Harry," he said to Harry.  Then, after Ron and Ginny had said their good-byes, Ron with a handshake and Ginny with a kiss on his cheek, the Weasleys left with Remus.

 

"Take care of yourself, Harry," Hermione said, her smile looking a little teary.  "I'll ring you up in a day or two, all right?"

 

Harry nodded and gave her a hug.  "Summer will be over before you know."  He turned and led the Dursleys out of the station.

 

"Harry," Dudley asked, "was that one of your professors?"  Harry nodded, and Dudley looked horrified.  "I'll bet Potions is the hardest subject at your school."

 

Harry grinned, feeling mischievous.  "Yeah, but the lessons in combat magic were wicked," he said.  As they got into the car, the Dursleys looking quite thoroughly horrified, Harry felt happier than he could ever imagine.  He could get on with the job of living.

 

7/10/05

 


End file.
